


The Archivist

by Ashrali



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Bi-Curiosity, Bisexual Hermione Granger, Coming Out, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian Character, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashrali/pseuds/Ashrali
Summary: As her marriage arrangement with Draco Malfoy pends over the summer after Graduation, Pansy Parkinson attempts to find any and all distractions. A new job at the Ministry clears her head, and her unexpected work partner Hermione Granger gives her a new light to her most undesired expectations in her inner pure-blood circle.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger & Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 120





	1. Graduation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second fic. Please enjoy. Updates should come frequently enough.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of these characters, scenes, content in this fic. This fic is made specifically for entertainment purposes only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Time Skip  
> \-- POV Switch

It was well known that the stature and nature of a Sacred 28 heiress should replicate what had been passed down for generations throughout the lineage of what was known simply as _Pure-blood Traditions._

"I know," she said quietly as the man in front of her narrowed his eyes towards her.

She looked up at him, standing nearly over top of her as she sat in one of his office guest chairs. His hands remained firm against the sides of his suit, and she could just barely see the bottom of his pursed lips through the moustache that lay thick on his face.

This man was anything but a loving figure in her life. He was hardly what a _father_ should even be considered. He was merely a holder of possessions, as he liked to refer to himself. Dark magical artifacts, ancient family heirlooms, and his most precious possession of all, even more important to him than his wife; _his daughter._

"If you are to regain the public image of our family, you must do this," he said as he relaxed his posture.

"I _know_ ," she said again, a little more agitation seeping through her voice.

"Lucius Malfoy's family is a damned good one. Even after the war, he is respected within our magical class. We have all suffered at the downfall of the Dark Lord. His family if not the most. We are trying to rebuild the core values once believed by many of our kind. Our pure-blood ancestors." He walked around the small chair the girl was seated in before continuing, "but I believe your light hearted attitude towards this very profitable relationship undermines all of the hard work your mother and I have done for you and our family," Mr. Parkinson said sternly.

He turned to face an old clock on the wall. Suddenly, it struck nine long gongs before he continued his borderline rampage on his daughter.

"Don't screw this up," he said somewhat annoyed and quickly left the room.

Pansy sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair as the clock ticked lightly nearby. The tempo slowly filled her lungs until she felt like she couldn't breathe. Not only was she to be courted by Draco Malfoy, she was going to _marry_ the bloke before her nineteenth birthday this October. 

_How wretched_ , she thought. Of all pure-bloods it had to be him.

Sure, she had had a small crush on him during fourth year, but that was years ago. Four years to be exact. It wasn't as if her small insignificant school girl crush continued to radiate through her body. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

She loathed him.

For everything he had done, and everything he believed it. The same loathsome behavior and thinking that made her despise her own family. Even though the Dark Lord's demise had shed light on the Wizarding World, she knew deep down the cult of her own kind would linger in the shadows, awaiting a new dark wizard or witch to rise. Hadn't the same thing happened before with Grindelwald? He was once the most feared wizard until his defeat from the late and great Albus Dumbledore. Then Lord Voldemort took his place soon after.

She cursed under her breath. It wouldn't happen again for a long time, but the last thing she wanted was to marry into her own traditions and bring a few heirs into the world. 

_Draco's heirs,_ she thought and nearly gagged.

# -

Time after Graduation from Hogwarts went by fast. Days turned into weeks and suddenly, it was all too soon that the Parkinson's held a grand event at their countryside home. Her parents had been planning it for months. Many strange wizards had passed through their halls up until now. Banquets, meetings with her mother and father, usually the latter, were just a few of the strange happenings since her return to home from school.

She hadn't received a single letter from any of her school friends. Surprisingly, it made her a tad bit depressed. She wasn't one to get very close to any of them anyway, but they always wrote about their extravagant trips or crushes over break. Maybe now that school was over, they would all just move on. The idea made her feel more lonely.

The event had begun, like so many others where her home was the place of the party. This time, though, twice the amount of witches and wizards came, including significant elders whom Pansy recognized as Millicent's family. The amount of pure-blood fanatics crawling around her estate was revolting. However the most disgusting thing she had seen so far was a tall boy striding over to her quiet spot against the back wall.

"Pansy," he said with a neutral tone as a greeting.

Pansy nodded towards him and stiffened her chin upwards.

"Draco," she said quietly. The name barely croaking out of her throat.

It had been a year since she had seen Draco, and nearly two years since she was in class with him.

After his absence in her first 7th year (the second she had just officially graduated from with everyone except Draco,) she had only seen him in passing when she and many other Slytherin students escaped the castle before the Battle of Hogwarts.

He looked helpless then, but she couldn't forgive him for what he had done and who, like her family, had supported. She had spent too many years believing in the same barbaric traditions of pure-blood supremacy. Especially with their core values against people who were different. It was only when she came to terms that she didn't quite 'fit' into their expectations that she realized how all of the other atrocities they believed in were terrible.

The worst part of it all was that Draco _knew._ Or at least she thought he knew. It had been a drunken night when she rejected his offer, even in her memory it was a bit blurry.

But what if he did and he told someone? What if he got fed up with her dislike of him and started an issue?

She felt her throat close tightly for a few seconds at the thoughts.

A long silence held the pair together while they stood awkwardly. A few passerby's waved as the seconds ticked by hours in her head and heart.

It wasn't long until her father made his appearance.

"Draco, it's wonderful for your family to join us for this celebration."

The platinum haired boy who had surpassed Pansy in growth over the last few years nodded his head towards her father who shared his height. He tilted his head down towards her before returning his eyes back to Mr. Parkinson.

"It's wonderful for you to invite us," Draco said politely.

Mr. Parkinson smiled and offered a cheer in the air from his long glass that was held tight in hand. Pansy could smell the liquor off of his dress robes.

"We couldn't imagine it without the Malfoy's. You are, after all, quite the family of good status," he said with a large smile.

Draco chuckled lightly. "As are the Parkinson's too, sir."

Her father smiled and continued to chat lightly with him for a moment. She kept her lip tight and avoided eye contact with him as much as possible, instead focusing on a new family that was being greeted by the entryway.

The Greengrasses

Soft murmurs echoed throughout the hall which led both men to turn their gaze towards the family that smiled kindly at everyone who shook the men's hands and air kissed the women's cheeks.

"I must excuse myself, Draco. Mr. Greengrass and I have some business to attend to tonight," Mr. Parkinson said.

The Malfoy boy nodded respectfully and Pansy's father took a few steps away from them before returning back quickly to add, "Oh and do take care of my daughter for this evening."

Without another word he was gone.

As soon as he was out of ear shot, Pansy muttered quietly to herself as Draco gave her a sardonic smile.

"Don't be such a downer, Pansy. It's just a party," he said cockily.

Pansy turned to face him fully for the first time.

"Maybe for you!" She pointed a long nail into his chest. "But I don't know if anyone's told you about our _arrangement_ yet," she said with a sneer.

He laughed quietly before shrugging his shoulders and leaning against the wall, letting her pointed finger fall back against her side loosely.

"My father has, and I am certainly not against it. We did have a small thing going on for a while back in school. You know, before . . ." he faltered with a grin.

"Stop," she said with a deep glare. "That was years ago anyway."

Draco shifted closer to her, clearly uncertain. "Pans, I know you hate me. But you don't have to. I'm not as much of a prat as I used to be."

"Could have fooled me," she said as she turned away from his gaze.

Draco's smile fell instantly and he opened his mouth to reply when a girl flung herself at him.

"Draco, darling! It's lovely to see you." A flash of blonde hair said quickly.

Pansy looked at Daphne Greengrass, one of her most beloved friends in school. Even this past year, too.

The tall girl retracted from Draco who regained his stance as she had nearly knocked him over.

"Pansy, dear! How have you been?" she asked as Pansy was quickly wrapped into a strong embrace.

"Fine," she mumbled into her bare shoulder.

The girl's dress was eloquent and absolutely gorgeous. Daphne always loved color, much opposite to Pansy who had chosen a dark green that was so dark it was basically black. Unless you saw it in the right lighting.

"Just 'fine?'" She winked and eyed towards Draco.

Pansy grimaced with no shame. "Yes, just _fine._ "

Daphne raised her eyebrows and gave a short giggle before another girl came up behind her.

A girl who had the same shade of hair, but instead it was a bit rounder. Bubbly was a good word, Pansy had mused to herself.

The younger Greengrass.

She had really grown quite a lot over the past year. Nearly as tall as her sister and just as elegant in pose and nature.

Draco politely offered his hand to her and she took it with grace. He gave a light bow and the pair returned to Pansy and Daphne who's hushed conversation had grown louder.

"I am so jealous!" the blonde said as her voice rose an octave. "I can't even imagine if it were me."

Pansy eyed her carefully.

"Not that I'd ever try to steal him away from you, Pans!" she quickly added.

"Honestly, be my guest, Daph," Pansy said dryly which received a hazard look from Draco. She rolled her eyes in response.

"We can talk about this later," Daphne hushed as the air became thick between all four individuals. "Astoria, why don't you engage Pansy in some light chat while Draco and I catch up. I haven't seen him in nearly a year."

The younger Greengrass and Draco nodded towards each other and broke their conversation. Pansy was almost certain she had seen a hint of sadness hidden in Draco's eyes.

Daphne wound around her sister and they traded places. The growing crowd nearby then drowned out Draco and Daphne's conversation.

"Astoria," Pansy said with a nod towards the girl. She was younger than her, yet she still eclipsed her by at least several centimeters.

"Pansy," she offered lightly in response.

Silence filled the pair while the chatter buzzed as the night began. The younger Greengrass sister was incredibly beautiful, Pansy thought. Much like her sister, the two were a catch and sought after by many pure-blood and half-blood wizards in school. Probably even some muggle-borns as well. Not that they'd ever have a chance at dating or marrying a prestigious family name from the Sacred 28 much like her own. However, there was a catch, one that many of her own kind were very tight lipped about. So much that she wasn't even sure why the girls she knew weren't already betrothed. It bothered her the more she thought about it.

"I hear you'll be accompanying Draco again." The voice rang through Pansy's ears.

She looked at Astoria who had mentioned her arrangement with Malfoy. Swallowing hard, she quirked an eye towards him. Daphne was nearly all over him, and Draco seemed a tad bit shaken by it. It was unlike him to not enjoy girls throwing themselves at him.

"Unfortunately," she replied after Astoria followed her gaze.

The girl laughed which brought Pansy's eyes back to hers. Astoria wasn't one to show much emotion. It was odd seeing her laugh or even look mildly amused at anything.

"Don't take it for granted. There are many witches that would die for an opportunity like yours," she said before rolling her eyes and turning her head to the long blonde hair behind them, "including my sister."

The look she gave the older Greengrass seemed strained. Amused, definitely, but there was something hidden beneath it. Resentment? Jealousy? Pansy saved this incident in the back of her head for later.

A loud bang erupted in the dining hall and Mr. Parkinson laughed while returning his wand into his dress robes and stepping away from his wife to stand at a podium placed off to the side. As the voices lowered quickly, he began to speak.

"I beg all of you to feast upon yourselves on this glorious night. A night that will not be forgotten as we have not given up on everything that we've done to keep our bloodlines pure," he said and a loud cheer came in response. "Including my own daughter," he continued with a smile as he held out his hand in Pansy's direction.

Instantaneously, she shrank into the wall behind her like a mouse desperately hiding from a very large, hungry cat. The amount of stares she received quickened her breath and she swallowed hard. Her heart beat rang in her head one by one as no response came from her.

"She's a bit shy, as you can see," he laughed to ease the tension, and several others joined him, "but I assure you she is undoubtedly committed to the re-establishment of our place in wizard society. Now let us enjoy this time, and praise our wonderful sons and daughters that will be continuing our most important traditions." Mr. Parkinson finished with a loud applause.

Pansy felt her back ache from pushing herself so hard into a picture frame. She glanced up to see an ancestor or hers fixing her long skirt as Pansy had knocked her over. The woman in the painting gave her a foul look and Pansy ignored it.

As the eyes dropped from herself, she eased her breathing back to normal. A waitress had passed quickly with more champagne glasses which she grabbed encouragingly. A few long sips burned her throat and eased the panic that was still tight in her body.

Draco came quickly and placed a hand on her forearm. "Pansy, are you all right?"

She yanked her arm away swiftly. "Don't bloody touch me," she spat.

Draco recoiled with an annoyed look.

Daphne placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, let's head to the ladies lavatory to freshen up," she said and glanced back at Draco. "We'll be back soon, Draco. Don't go getting yourself into trouble." She winked playfully.

The platinum haired boy pushed himself off the wall with a bit more force than was needed and walked away quietly.

"What a prat," Pansy mumbled as Daphne led her across the room with Astoria on their tail.

"Oh, come on, Pansy! Lighten up. Draco just cares about you," she said with a smile.

"I doubt that," she scoffed. "He only cares about our marriage arrangement. He could care less about me and what I want or don't want."

The girls entered the lavatory which was embellished with golds and dark greens across the sofas and decorations. Astoria sat on a large lounge and busied herself with a Witch Weekly magazine.

"Pans, you can't go on like this forever with him." Daphne caressed Pansy's shoulder lightly to ease some tension. "Draco may be a bit much sometimes, but he means well."

Pansy grunted in response.

"I'm sure you'll learn to love him. Just try," she said with an earnest smile.

Pansy closed her eyes tightly. The last thing she wanted to do was try to love or even as much as _like_ Draco Malfoy.

"I don't think I can . . ."

Daphne creased her brows together at Pansy's vague response. The dark haired girl could see a deep concern growing on her friend's face. Even Astoria had shifted her gaze from the magazine to her.

It was quiet.

She swallowed hard. Sure, Draco wasn't exactly a nice person, but there was more to her negative emotions towards their impending marriage. Something she only had the bollocks to even drunkenly admit to one person, and one person only. Draco Malfoy in 6th year. The idea of it getting out to her pure-blood fanatic family and friends was devastating. If she wouldn't be homeless and alone, she'd be dead.

"He's an arse. I don't know what else to tell you." She finally let out, a truth but not all of it.

Daphne smirked. "Alright, then, if that's how you want to feel tonight. Let's go with it. Drink some more champagne, too." She gestured towards the thin glass in Pansy's hand.

Upon request, Pansy allowed herself to down the rest of the golden liquid.

"That's my girl. Okay, let's head back out. I still think you're being too hard on Draco, though."

The three went for the door and after Astoria had gone through, Daphne quickly grabbed Pansy's wrist and spun her around.

"For your own safety," Daphne said quietly and serious, "don't start anything with him. I don't think your father would appreciate it. Especially tonight."

Pansy snorted. "No joking. Don't worry, Daph. I'm hard to swallow sometimes but I'm not an idiot."

The blonde laughed as the two went through the door and back out into the large banquet hall. They peered around the corner and found Astoria speaking to Draco again.

"Careful, Pans. My little sister might just steal your soon-to-be husband," she joked mirthfully.

Pansy blew out a hard laugh which gained some stares from a few bystanders and waiters. "Like I said earlier, be my guest."

Daphne laughed and hooked her arm through Pansy's and the pair walked towards Draco and Astoria who looked all too involved in their own conversation.

# -

"But why can't I have a job?"

Pansy placed her palms onto the marble top island in one of their kitchens. Several elves busied themselves with dishes, cooking, and a few darted back and forth with various articles of clothing in baskets.

Mr. Parkinson tossed the Daily Prophet at one of the elves dusting a nearby head statue.

"Rubbish. All of it."

Pansy cleared her throat loudly which gained the attention of her father and mother who had been sat together in the sitting room across the kitchen.

"Pansy, dear, you won't _need_ a job after you've married Draco," he mused casually.

Pansy rolled her eyes and walked to seat herself across her parents on a small sofa.

"Yes, darling. I really don't see the point," her mother said with a concerned look.

"But you worked for the Ministry for five years, Mum," Pansy said as if this has been obvious.

"That was before I married your father," Mrs. Parkinson replied with a smile towards the man next to her who had recently lit a large elven cigar.

"Well I'm not married to Draco yet, am I?" she asked with a sardonic grin, the loophole showing itself brightly.

"No, but you will be soon . . . that is if you're still planning to," the dark haired man said with a humorous tone to his words, but Pansy knew well enough this was non negotiable. It was almost sadistic to taunt her with such a thought. And to act as if she had chosen this.

She scoffed in response and flopped her legs over the arm of the chair to dangle them.

"Darling, you're going to ruin the sofa," her mother scolded lightly while an elf had taken a wine glass from her hand.

Pansy removed herself from the seat and crossed the room with haste. There was no point in arguing this any longer it appeared.

"Pansy, wait," her father said as she reached the edge of the room.

She turned back around and quirked an eyebrow with the shrug of a shoulder. Her sour attitude apparent.

"Go on and get yourself a job if you feel it to be so damned necessary," he said with an annoyed look. He reached over to a stack of other papers near him for a new one. "You'll be leaving it in a few months anyway most likely, but go on if you must."

With the affirmation in hand, she left the estate immediately. Regardless of what they thought, if she had a job before she married Draco, she would at least have something to do forty hours a week or more to get away from him and their planning sessions.

# -

Using her families Floo Network to get to the Ministry was easy, but she hated the scent the powder put in the air and how it left her mouth feeling chalky.

She stumbled lightly onto her feet and made towards a small section off the main hall dedicated to hiring and firing staff near the Atrium.

A long line wound around the corner as many young and old witches and wizards eagerly waited for their turn. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Waiting was not something she enjoyed. But she definitely did not want to go home empty handed. Especially after their dislike of this idea to begin with.

A light tap on her shoulder quickly released her from thoughts of her parents. She turned to find a brunette smiling at her.

"Tracey?" Pansy said a little surprised.

"Pansy, I just knew it was you!" The girl said with a jolt of excitement.

The smile that crossed Pansy's face couldn't be faked. She was genuinely happy to see one of her old classmates. Besides Daphne, Tracey was one of the only other girls in her year that she enjoyed the company of.

"What are you doing here?" Pansy said surprised after the girls broke from a hug.

"Oh, you know, Mum and Dad want me to get some experience in the real world."

"Well that sounds refreshing," Pansy said but mostly to herself.

"So what are you doing here?" Tracey said while the line began to move forward.

"Same reason. Except my parents don't want me to," she said with a short laugh.

Tracey didn't return the gesture but instead smiled. "Well the word I've heard from Daphne and Astoria is that you've got a new beau on your arm. I can only imagine that's why they don't want you to."

Pansy let out a strangled sigh. "Unfortunately."

"It'll be alright," the brunette said with an affirming smile.

That's what everyone told her when they brought up her engagement. Except Tracey didn't explain how happy or jealous she was. That was quite nice for Pansy. It was starting to get old.

Over the past few weeks since the banquet all she had received was many owls of congratulations and even more gifts from Draco basically begging her to talk to him. Which she hadn't, much to her parents dissatisfaction.

She didn't reply, but instead smiled back at her friend who took the hint and changed the subject.

"What type of work are you looking for?"

"I'm not sure, Trace. Anything, really. Auror would be interesting, except my parents would never let me nearly kill myself on a daily basis," she said with a laugh.

Tracey giggled. "Yeah, I don't think my parents would let me go that far either," she mused.

Pansy smiled. It was nice having a conversation that wasn't entirely about Draco for once.

"I'm sure you'll get something good," Tracey said.

The line moved again and the girls quickly made it to the front. A new window opened up and waved for Tracey to move over.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you around. Maybe here," she said with a wink.

Pansy nodded her head with a genuine smile. She would be happy to see Tracey again. Especially after their pleasant conversation.

A few more minutes and Pansy was next, making her way to the window. An old witch stood behind a piece of slightly tainted glass. There were several elves and witches rummaging through bins and cabinets behind her. The shuffling of many papers nearby was a nuisance.

"Name?"

"Pansy Parkinson," she said softly, and the woman twirled a finger towards her quill which began to scratch fast on the paper below.

"Needing or leaving?" the old witch asked impatiently.

"Uhm . . ."

The old Witch tapped a long finger rapidly on a piece of parchment in front of her, her quill already dipping itself into some ink for the next person.

"N–Needing," Pansy stammered.

The woman stamped a piece of paper and shoved it under the slit between the desk and partition. "You're in room seven, dear," she said quickly before yelling 'Next!'

Pansy swiftly made her way down the nearby hall. There were several doors all very close to each other. She reached number seven quickly and opened the door to find herself in a large open office with a tall wizard standing behind a desk.

He gave her a quirked eyebrow and motioned for her to stand in front of him.

She shut the door and walked to the table. While gently placing the parchment in front of the man, he grabbed it with much fervor and turned around. His actions had slightly startled her.

"Ms. Pansy Parkinson," he said with amusement.

Pansy chest tightened. What if they didn't like her family name and tossed her out immediately? It was plausible. Her family had been cleared from any ties to the Dark Lord but that didn't mean her family was free of blame or prejudice.

"You know I used to work with your mother?" he asked suddenly.

The man turned back and placed the paper back on the desk. He stuck his hand forward and Pansy took it with grace. An inaudible sigh left her with relief.

"I'm Arnold Schmidt, one of the hiring heads. When your mother worked here, we were just lackies in the Department of Magical Transportation," he laughed.

Pansy smiled. This man seemed kinder than she expected. Especially after knowing who she was.

"Yes, my Mum worked here for five years prior to marrying my father."

Mr. Schmidt made a casual nod to what she had said and then began to follow his finger down a long list in a book next to him.

"Well if you're anything like your mother, you'll make an excellent employee here."

He flicked a finger towards his quill which rapidly began to write on her paper. Not knowing what it was writing was nerve wracking, but knowing what he had just said gave her some hope. As long as she wasn't cleaning toilets or the Floo Network, she could manage whatever it was they gave her.

"I have one more spot open for Archivist. Does that sound good to you?" he asked quickly while glancing at the clock.

"I suppose so, sir. What does an Archivist do?" she asked a little confused. She had never heard of this position before.

"It's sort of an organizer, if you must. Someone who takes daily parchments and legal papers and files them away. It's a little mundane, but the work is quick and once you're done with your stacks you can leave for the day," he said. "It's a position your parents shouldn't have any objections to." A smile had returned to his face.

She nodded her head and returned the gesture. "Well, that's good because I definitely want to remain here for as long as I can."

"That's the spirit," he said while closing the small book next to him.

He grabbed his quill in the air and wrote a few things down by hand. After a few quick swishes, be replaced it to the inkwell and it sank back in pure bliss.

Pansy returned her gaze her mother's old co-worker as he handed her the parchment.

"You start next week, darling. Tell your mother I said hello and hope she is well."

Pansy smiled. "I will, Mr. Schmidt."

"Oh, please call me Arnold. And if you need anything, just send me an owl. I'll see what I can do."

They shook hands again and Pansy darted out of the office happy and surprised at the luck she struck. A good job, thanks to her mother's previous employment, and _not_ her father's family name for once. It was better than what she had expected, although she had set the bar pretty low. She knew deep down she would have taken anything to get out of her house and away from Draco as much as possible once they we're officially together.

If her work day was based on however many stacks she had, surely she could ask for extra work to lengthen it to a full day.

Hopefully.


	2. Too Good To Be True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any spelling errors. I write this on my phone, and proof-read it at least twice. Sometimes I miss some, though. I go back and change some when I spot them when referencing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was Sunday morning when she had run out of excuses not to have brunch with her soon to be in-laws.

Pansy rolled her eyes at the thought as she walked quickly towards the large estate nestled deep in Wiltshire.

The grounds to Malfoy Manor were well guarded. Which only made sense. Pansy figured there would be a large portion of wizarding families that resented them and may have ill intended attacks on their premises. They took many precautions so that nobody, except the family and small set of elves, were allowed to apparate to or from their grounds.

The short walk through the wooded garden allowed her to clear her head. It was foggy, and not a single soul in sight.

 _Maybe I can impress them with my charm,_ she thought.

It was a simplistic approach, but a good one nonetheless. Their marriage arrangement was happening for three simple reasons: the Parkinson's had money, the Malfoy's had status, and both families needed their lineage taken well care of. Any offspring would be well regarded in the more posh wizarding community that intermingled with the pure bloods and higher-ups in the Ministry.

They couldn't be a better pair as it were on paper, but for Pansy it was possibly one of the worst things she could imagine. She would take being a spinster for the rest of her life over this. Except even that would draw attention to herself. There was no real way out of this arrangement and she knew that.

The main door to Malfoy Manor was extraordinarily large and metal just like the gates around the estate.

She pulled out her wand and waved it towards a large bell which made loud gong-like noises that cascaded over the barren land behind her.

After several heart beats, the door swung open soundlessly and a very small elf was found on the other side.

The elder elf bowed to Pansy, and the long sack dress it wore nearly slid off it's fragile frame.

Pansy nodded her head towards the servant who in turn led her through a doorway. As her heels clicked and clacked along the marble flooring, she heard the heavy door behind them shut.

The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up with every step she took closer to having to confront Draco's parents for the first time. She had met them before, but not like this.

While passing a long mirrored hallway, she glanced quickly at her reflection. Her hair was set perfectly, and the skirt she had chosen this morning paired well with her emerald jumper. It wasn't an extremely extravagant look, but the invite did say casual. Which in pure-blood vocabulary, still meant elegant enough as if you were to be photographed without knowing.

Suddenly, the elf waved a crooked hand to a wall at the end of the hallway. Pansy had hardly noticed they'd even approached the southern part of the mansion.

The bricks twisted and turned until a large entryway remained for Pansy to step through. The elf bowed again and with a snap of it's fingers, disappeared to another part of the house.

She gulped hard and took in one last shaky breath and made her way into the next room.

It was large, with a greenhouse-like roof that would allow plenty of sun if it ever decided to show itself.

The table in the center was round and the seating allowed four people. Just enough for today's luncheon.

Sat around this table, were her hosts waiting for her appearance. All three heads glanced quickly in her direction as she came into their view.

Pansy inhaled sharply and crossed the dark tile to the only chair available next to Draco.

They all stood as she approached.

Mr. Malfoy grasped her hand with a gentleness that Pansy didn't except. It was almost startling since the man looked as though he would use a killing curse on anyone he didn't approve of. He probably had at some point, she figured from how well her father spoke of the man.

Next was Mrs. Malfoy, who placed both of her hands gently on her shoulders and the two shared a chaste kiss on the cheek as most noble women did.

And finally, Draco took her hand, bowed, and placed a light kiss on her knuckle, just above her betrothal ring that had arrived at her estate last week.

It was silver with a deep black tourmaline stone in the center. The sides spanned a simple phrase: _Sanctimonia Vincent Semper_ which translated to 'Purity Will Always Conquer.' Pansy all but gagged when she received it, and of course her mother's reaction was expected; she nearly fainted at the sight, and even her father seemed impressed. It wasn't something she enjoyed showing.

She held a steady heart as the warm breath from Draco's lips sent a tingle sensation up her arm which she decidedly tried to ignored.

All through these introductions, she smiled politely.

 _"It's a pleasure, Mr. Malfoy,"_ _Pansy had said._

 _"As it is for us,"_ _he replied._

_"It's lovely for you two to invite me, Madam Malfoy."_

_"Oh, please call me Narcissa,"_ _she said with a hint of a blush._

 _"Draco, I'm charmed to have finally made it here,"_ _Pansy had said in the most believable tone she could muster._

 _"Pansy, I couldn't be happier to see you,"_ _he replied with a near smile._

She grinned and she laughed, she ate the food which she enjoyed, but every inch of her body ached. Every piece of her soul felt shredded at the very meaning to these moments and what would come in the future.

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous. It all felt so wrong, deep within her bones. And yet somehow she pushed though it.

"Pansy, you must tell me you and your mother have started the process of planning the wedding?" Narcissa asked as the dessert appeared.

Pansy expected this, and even though it had only been three weeks since the party and their subsequent official marriage announcement, she had been putting it off as much as she could.

"My mother has been looking for a wedding planner since the betrothal," she said as she placed a tiny bit of pudding onto her dessert spoon.

Draco nodded towards his mother to affirm what she had said. She laughed on the inside because he really had no clue. They hadn't spoken since the party. Clearly he had been telling his parents another story. Regardless of how she felt about him, if they were both caught in a lie, there would be trouble, so she smiled to him knowingly.

"Pansy, if I may ask," Mr. Malfoy began, pulling her out of her thoughts, "you will be a most diligent wife for Draco, won't you? I don't mean to question your family's virtues, but I must know my son will be taken care of. A man cannot prosper without a proper wife on his side."

She felt like she could vomit all of the wonderful food she had just eaten. The idea of being Draco's wife was bad enough, but the idealistic nature of being what she considered a well-cared-for servant was something else.

"Or course, Mr. Malfoy. My mother has always stood by my father and his ambitions. I should have no issue doing the same for Draco," she said with a nod of her head.

This seemed to please him and they ate their dessert in silence. Draco casually sent her curious glances which she ignored in favor for focusing on her sweets.

And after a long, dreadful story about Draco's grandfather, his parents left to attend a meeting at the Ministry as an end to their lunch. Before they apparated, it was very obvious they wanted the young couple to chat before Pansy went home after the date.

Draco had taken Pansy's hand in his, said good-bye to his parents, and led her outside to the front garden near the entrance. The smile on Mrs. Malfoy's face created a deep guilt and abhorrent dislike for her own faux interest in this matter.

The sun peaked through a few grey clouds, which warmed the air as they stood silently near the flowers.

"Thank you for being civil with them," he said.

Pansy was silent. She curved a finger along a rose stem, feeling all of the tiny, sharp edges caress her soft fingertips.

Draco cleared his throat. "It means a lot to me."

The dark haired girl sighed and took a glance towards her fiancé.

"Your parents aren't as awful as I assumed. Controlling and a little outdated like all pure-blood families, yes, but your mother seems quite nice."

Draco smiled gently at this and looked away. A moment passed before he said, "I know you don't want to be with me, Pansy, but I'll do my best to make you happy."

The guilt in her stomach moved quickly to her throat. The kindness he was showing her reminded her of the Draco she had been close friends with for so long. The nicer version of him that sometimes came to light. It wasn't often, but it was there, including now.

Pansy swallowed hard. There wasn't anything to say that she wouldn't regret, except good-bye, at this point.

"I should go," she said quietly. If she spoke any louder, the uneasiness in her chest may leak out.

Draco nodded his head and crossed his arms. His silence seemed strained.

"I'll send you an owl later with my mother's updates on our wedding planner that you're so well informed about," she said to lighten the mood.

The platinum haired boy's cheeks tinted slightly and he gave her a smirk. "My mum will be happy about that," he said.

Pansy chuckled. "I'm sure."

# -

It wasn't long until she returned to her own home. And it wasn't long until her parents had realized she was there either.

"How did it go, darling?" her mother asked enthusiastically.

Pansy relayed the main points of conversation with as much interest as she could manage which made her mother excited. Her father seemed a bit pessimistic though.

"I don't understand why he would ask you if you are to be a good wife? Did you say something wrong?" He nearly yelled at her.

Pansy wiped a few strands of hair from her face slightly irritated. "No. I said nothing wrong. I was the perfect pure-blood daughter-in-law," she said adamantly.

Her father pursed his lips for a long moment before he lit a cigar. After a few puffs he mumbled a few strands of sentences about his reputation and that money wasn't everything. Why did he think she was marrying into the Malfoy's to begin with? It very certainly wasn't for all the money they had lost and all the dark artifacts that had been taken from them after the war.

She rolled her eyes and politely excused herself to retire in her room for the rest of the evening, much to her father's displeasure.

It was in the quiet hours of the night when her anxiety about the whole situation began to rise again that she decided it owl one of her friends.

_Tracey,_

_I start tomorrow at the Ministry. Did you get a job offer, too? Maybe we can have lunch sometime._

_Pansy_

It was simple and straightforward. Within the hour, a reply came with great haste and a simple note attached to a large great grey owl:

_I did! Let's plan sometime this week. See you soon. Best of luck._

At least there was one highlight to her day that did not come with a inane amount of guilt and fraud.

# \--

Hermione Granger padded around the small flat she had just moved into. Boxes were stacked to nearly the ceiling in almost every corner.

Her hair stuck out haphazardly as she continued to reset her sofa throughout various places in the living room with quick flicks of her wand.

"'Mione just pick somewhere," the red headed boy groaned while going through a nearby box of decorations, one of them being a small ceramic cat.

A boy she had known for just as long chuckled across the room while flipping through one of Hermione's many tomes.

"Ron, it has to be _just perfect,_ " he mocked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it, Harry! The sofa position dictates the rest of the décor and arrangements for the entire living room. It's one of the most important factors," she said in a rushed tone as she continued to flick her wand in the air.

Ron dropped his current box and plopped down on another one nearby. He grimaced as a loud crack was heard.

Hermione let out an annoyed exhale but continued to focus on her couch.

Harry's eyes fixed themselves on the flame-haired girl coming out of the small kitchen.

"At least we have magic to fix that," she said with a positive attitude and shrug.

"I was thinking the exact same thing, Ginny," Harry added with a large grin.

Hermione allowed one more swish to the sofa, and before she could do another, Ginny flopped over the edge and lied down.

"I think I like this one best," she said. "It gives you a perfect view of London."

Hermione scowled lightly. She wasn't sure if it was the perfect spot but nonetheless it could do for now. Until all of her friends went home at least, she mused to herself.

Harry approached the couch with haste and sat directly on Ginny's legs.

" _Oof!_ Get off me," she choked as the air was expelled from her lungs.

Harry chuckled and stood quickly, pulling Ginny to her feet. He caught her gently and placed a small kiss to her nose.

Ron groaned quietly and Hermione awed audibly in their direction.

After several more boxes were unpacked and an assortment of goodies had been crafted, the four sat semi-comfortably in Hermione's living room.

"So, 'Mione, are you excited to be working at the Ministry tomorrow?" Ron asked amused.

Hermione couldn't withhold her smile. She had been itching to get real experience working at the Ministry since the Battle of Hogwarts ended, but it had been a good idea to finish her schooling properly with everyone else except Harry and Ron. They had gone directly into Auror training for nearly a year before they were classified recently as on-duty officers.

"Of course she is," Ginny said with an obvious smirk.

Harry placed his arm around Ginny on the couch and she snuggled into him. Hermione loved how adorable they looked together. They were perfect for each other. Which was why she was even happier to have broken things off with Ron months ago. They had never been like that.

"Of course I am," Hermione reiterated to Ron who in return rolled his eyes.

"What department are you starting in again?" Harry asked.

"The Records Room," she said, her tone only getting more excited.

"What the bloody hell do you do there?" Ron inquired with concern.

"As an Archivist, I'll be mostly working with old records and other legal documents. Making sure everything is in order," she said.

Ron smirked and placed his arms behind his head as he sank back into her chair. "Seems like the perfect job for you," he said as he gestured to her house.

"Everything has a place, Ronald. And it has to be organized."

"As I said, it will be the perfect job," he said while laughing. Within seconds he dodged a beige throw pillow that was lobbed directly to his head from Hermione.

"Ron's, right, 'Mione. I think you'll like it there," Harry said. "I've met a few Archivists. They always get done with their work early."

Hermione sighed. "I don't want to be done early, though."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Hermione, I think you're the only person I've ever met that _likes_ work."

Ginny giggled and Harry joined in too. Hermione blushed lightly. It was true she studied hard and put a lot of effort into her work. This shouldn't be something to be made fun of though. However, it was her dearest friends so she didn't take it as a low blow.

"Alright, Hermione. I suppose we will let you get settled for your big day tomorrow," Harry said as he stood and stretched.

"Yeah, Mum will want us back at the burrow soon." Ginny tossed her jacket over her shoulder.

Ron awkwardly nodded and joined the other two in the center of the room.

They all took turns hugging Hermione and wishing her luck. Within minutes, Harry and Ginny apparated together, leaving her alone with Ron in the living room.

After a few moments of silence he embraced her. "If you ever want to come back, you'll always be welcomed," he said into her hair.

Hermione blushed and hugged him back. The warmth from his breath blowing over her ear, leaving a strange sense in her.

Ron retracted from her and smiled. "I don't think Mum would let me keep you from her anyway," he laughed.

Hermione smiled. "That's true. Ginny wouldn't allow it neither."

Ron nodded his head with a grin. "Good night, Hermione," he said softly.

And without another word, he was gone with a loud pop in the air.

The silence that filled the room overcame her quickly. It was a lot different than living at the burrow for the last few weeks. It was always noisy with people coming and going. And as annoying as it was at the beginning, it grew on her.

She let out a long breath. This was the way it should be. Being in a house with Ron would only prolong their situation. It wasn't right of her, but it was nice to know she had somewhere to go if things got too tough. Australia was too far away anyway if she needed help quickly.

With that thought in her head, she made a mental note to send her parents a letter with her new address as she headed up the small staircase to her loft. A single mattress lay bare, crowded with more boxes.

She was too tired to continue, so she lay quietly as sleep, and Crookshanks, came swiftly to aid her apprehensive thoughts.

# -

The next morning found her even more nervous. She checked herself in the mirror once over again before she left to the Ministry via her Floo.

Her hair was tidy and she had applied some mascara and eyeshadow that made her golden eyes pop. It would be a nice, professional look for her first day.

With a flash of green, she was quickly transported to the Ministry of Magic. She was pushed out of the warm coals onto a large marble floor where hundreds of Witches and Wizards filed in line and walked with purpose towards their respective departments. If this was an equivalent to muggle transportation, this would be morning rush hour.

It was exciting and only slightly overwhelming at the pace she was forced to walk with. She was early, no doubt, so she wasn't really in a hurry like so many around her.

Within fifteen minutes, she made it down a long corridor that held many doors labeled for different department heads and their offices. It was a strange place, where the Records Room was. Sort cast aside in regards to other areas of the Ministry. Much further away from the Auror department than she anticipated. Having lunch with Ron and Harry may prove a harder task.

But with the giant delivery room where all papers, parchments, books and legal documents of any and all sizes came to, it made sense why this area was off to the side.

It was incredibly large.

Huge pillars held the room standing straight as open holes in the walls surrounded the people busying themselves back and forth between tables. Hermione squinted and finally recognized the holes were actually small Floo Networks designed specifically for all the papers. It was immaculate. The detail that was put into making sure everything important was sent to the right place was breath taking.

Hermione loved organizing, _obviously,_ and this was a top notch design.

After gaping at the room once more, she quickly led herself to the table at the front with a middle aged Witch sitting behind it.

The woman stamped very quickly through numerous parchments as her quill wrote notes next to her.

She cleared her throat when the Witch did not look up at her. "Uhm. Hello," Hermione said with a wave.

The Witch was silent and continued to stare deeply into her work.

A moment passed and Hermione cleared her throat louder, which gained the attention of the woman behind the desk.

"Oh, deary. I'm so sorry," she said with an embarrassed look. "'tis just a lot going on right now, love. Now tell me, what's ya name?"

"Hermione Granger," she said with a smile and clutching her bag closer to her.

"Hermione. . . Granger," the woman mumbled to herself as she shoved several papers around her desk.

The Records Room was very well organized and thought out, but this woman did not match it very well, Hermione mused.

"Ah, yes. Okay, darling. You'll be picking up your stack at table eleven, and be heading to room sixteen, and working in section A-41. Got it?"

Hermione'a eyes widened. Not quite. That was a lot to remember for somewhere she'd never been and didn't know _exactly_ what she should be doing.

Her silence must have tipped the woman off because she leaned forward and repeated herself. "Say it with me. Eleven. Sixteen. A-41."

Hermione repeated the words and the woman smiled gleefully. "Wonderful. Don't worry, dear. It's a lot easier than it seems," she said before she went back to her parchments.

Hermione nodded to herself and carefully made her way over to the table she assumed was Eleven. Several large stacks of parchments and small books were nearly piled next to each other. On the table, there was a small card that stood with her name on it. She picked it up, and the stack that lay behind it fizzled into a puff of smoke.

Confused, she stared quietly at the empty space before a man next to her quickly picked up his name plate and his stack did the same.

He smiled. "It transfers itself to the room you're in. Can't imagine carrying it would be all that easy, eh?"

She chuckled lightly and the man winked and left quickly through a door that read 'twenty-seven.' She followed in suit, but to her own section.

After she walked through, Hermione gazed at the area that was much larger on the inside than she expected. Like with most magical buildings.

The room was about twenty feet high and contained dozens and dozens of filing cabinets that were stacked in numerous rows next to each other. It reminded her much of a library. Except the organizing containers replaced the bookshelves.

She easily found row A on the very far left and walked nearly to the end where section 41 was labeled right before the last section, number 42.

Hermione glanced around casually and only saw a few people walking throughout the aisles. The room was pretty bare and only very hushed, indiscernible whispers could be heard by her.

It was very quiet and she quickly decided she liked that.

Yes, this very much reminded her of a library.

As soon as she placed a hand on A-41, her stack appeared next to her on the floor. The contents of her papers were only slightly taller than her height. She reached up quickly for her first paper. A paper in regards to the Aurors offices. That made sense, she figured. Alphabetically speaking since she was nearly at the end of the line for anything 'A.'

# -

Some time had passed when she heard light footsteps cross behind her. It had been the first time anybody had walked down her aisle since she began. Not wanting to make a fuss about it, she continued to silently file her papers in their cabinets.

Except she realized very quickly that this person has stopped at the end of the aisle and their stack appeared next to 42.

She glanced over immediately to see a tall, slender figure staring at her first paper a little confused. She wore a deep red lipstick and her hair was jet black that lay gently past her chin.

The outfit she was wearing seemed extravagant, even for the Ministry. Slim, black slacks that were form fitting. _Very_ form fitting, Hermione realized and fixed her eyes to the girl's top. A white, long sleeved shirt that was also fit well to the body.

She peeled her eyes away quickly when all of this information piled into her brain and a name for this girl finally came to her mind.

Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione felt like she wanted to vomit. This was the girl who tortured her for years and tried to give Harry to Voldemort.

 _How in Merlin's name could she get a job here?_ she thought.

As if reading her mind, Parkinson turned to face her for the first time. Their eyes locked and the confused look the girl wore for half a second, turned to discontent very quickly.

"Granger?" she asked with a frown.

"Parkinson." Hermione replied, tilting her head upwards to meet her height.

A long silence eclipsed the two girls before Parkinson said, "well, I'm surprised to meet you here."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. She could say the same, but she didn't want to jump the gun on accusations just yet.

"Why?" Hermione asked a little confused.

"Well, given you're a war heroine, I figured they'd put you in as Minister for Magic," Parkinson said with a devious smirk.

Hermione scoffed and went back to her work, but was interrupted quickly by her again.

"Relax, Granger. If that's even possible for you to do," she said quietly while placing a paper into a cabinet.

"Coming from you," Hermione said a little louder than intended. "You've done nothing but relax for your whole life."

This turned Parkinson's smirk into a sneer. "As if you'd know. Half the time at school you were off with Potter and Weasley on some adventure."

"We were saving the world," Hermione retorted, agitation rising in her voice. "Not that you or your family cared about anybody but yourselves."

Parkinson huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'll say it again. _As if you'd know._ You don't know anything about me."

Hermione took a few steps towards her and pointed one of her fingers at the girl's chest.

"I know that you're not a nice person, you never have been, and don't want to be. You spent half your time at school obsessing over Malfoy and the other half making everyone miserable! And to top it all off, when it came down to it, you tried to sell out Harry to Voldemort just to save your own skin! I know _everything_ I need to know about you, Parkinson." Her voice had grown as did her temper.

A small _shush_ noise could be heard a few aisles over. A hint of red crossed her cheeks at the potential embarrassment of being overheard. Especially because her words were not in kind light.

Parkinson narrowed her eyes at her. "If that's all you know," she said quietly and took a step forward.

Hermione inhaled deeply as Parkinson's face, angry and cold, closed in on her own where she could smell a soft scent of rose escape her skin.

"Then you know _nothing_ about me," Parkinson finished after a second of absolute silence. The anger and resentment for Hermione clear in her eyes.

The dark haired girl took a few steps back and busied herself with her work when no response came from Hermione.

After several long, strangled moments of silence, Hermione did the same. Except she wasn't as content as she had been earlier. Now she had a known enemy right next to her.

Maybe if she was lucky, she wouldn't even see her again in such a large place.

What were the odds?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	3. Friday Evenings

The Ministry on a Friday afternoon was easily comparable to the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year, Pansy had finally come to the conclusion.

It was bustling.

Witches and wizards scattered in every direction to finish their final tasks and papers before the weekend. They sped through hallways, gave their owls extra treats to increase their productivity, and even skipped their lunches all in order to get home early that afternoon.

Most departments weren't open past the weekdays, including the Records Room. If there wasn't anything to file, it didn't make sense to have Archivists going through shift and only filing a few documents at a time. Those could be consolidated to Monday's workload.

But because of Friday's rush and the constant supply of document after document coming through early morning and miday, it was only certain that Archivists worked an evening shift up until 10 p.m. or when all of the files had been placed neatly in their corresponding cabinets before the weekend.

And with this information in mind, Pansy made her way swiftly to the Records Room to pick up her load of papers.

While swerving and dodging the witches and wizards who were so eager to leave, she couldn't break the memory of her lunch at the Ministry's Munchie café earlier that week with Tracey. One of her highlights so far.

_"Pansy, I'm so glad we could meet up to have lunch," she said._

_"Likewise. It's been a real week so far and it's only half over," Pansy mused to her old friend while stirring a cup of tea._

_The brunette laughed. "Has it now? Do tell," she said while sipping her own drink._

_The long exhale that emitted from Pansy filled the air. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."_

_Tracey quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer. "Try me."_

_Pansy let out a strangled laugh. "Well, Granger works in my department and sometimes alongside me."_

_The girl's face contorted into pure shock within half a second of Pansy's sentence._

_"Granger?!" she asked stunned. "You mean know-it-all Hermione Granger?"_

_Pansy bit her lip with a nervous smile. "As if there's any other Granger's around here."_

_"I can't believe it! Granger of all people!" Tracey's laugh traveled to a nearby table where a pair of old wizards narrowed their eyes at the young witches' gossip._

_Pansy pressed her elbows forward on the table. "Be quiet! I don't want anyone to hear. It's bad enough those lot are already famous. I don't want anyone asking me any questions about them," she whispered harshly._

_The brunette grimaced in apology. After a moment, a smile found itself back on her face. "Alright. Well, what department are you two in then?"_

_Pansy sighed while rubbing the side of her warm mug. "The Records Room."_

_Tracey smiled brightly. "Oh, I bet that's perfect for her," she managed to say before she quickly broke out into a snort. After containing herself, she continued, "I'm sorry I–"_

_"It's fine. I get it," Pansy interrupted with a wave of a hand, nonchalance bleeding through her attitude._

_She wasn't angry at Tracey. It was laughable, really. That someone such as herself would work in the same department as someone so opposite of her._

_After a few more short giggles, Tracey asked with genuine curiosity, "so how do you like it?"_

_"It's actually quite nice," Pansy replied as she sat back in her chair, less tense. "It's quiet and the work is easy. A little mundane but manageable."_

_"That's good," Tracey said as a silence overtook them for a moment. The chatter of the café continued lightly around them._

_"And you?"_

_"Ah, yes! I work in the Department of Magical Transportation."_

_Pansy smiled. "That's wonderful."_

_"Yes, I do like it so far. You should come up to visit Level 6 at some point. I'm sure staying here on Level 8 all the time is always so boring."_

_Pansy shrugged. "It's easy to get to work on time."_

_Tracey nodded her head. "That's good, because I'm sure Granger would tattle if you were late," she joked, and took a sip of her tea._

_Pansy rolled her eyes with a groan and Tracey laughed at her expense quieter this time._

_"I've only seen her once so far. She wouldn't even know," Pansy said with a confident smirk._

_"Don't count yourself lucky yet, Pans. It's only Wednesday," Tracey winked._

The memory faded quickly as Pansy found herself in front of the door to the Records Room. Without much thought, she entered and the normally busy center was a little lackluster. Only half the amount of witches and wizards seemed to be there, and only a fraction were actually gathering piles of paperwork.

She approached the front desk a little apprehensively.

"Evenin', love," said the woman as she stamped a few pages. "Name?"

Pansy furrowed her eyebrows. "Parkinson."

"Ah, yes. Here you are," she said after she rummaged through a few scattered parchments. "You're stack's on table two, and you're in room five, section I-14."

The woman went right back to work but noticed Pansy was still standing there.

"Can I help ya?" she asked confused.

Pansy took in the appearance of this woman: middle aged, narrow in the shoulders, and wearing something that resembled a pantsuit. On the very edge of the table was a small name plate that read _Agatha Riggie._

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Riggie," Pansy started while looking around. "I'm just curious as to why no one is here."

The woman laughed and sat back a little in her chair. "Nobody likes working the evenin' shift of the week, love. They always be making the newbies in the department do it."

Within a few seconds, she went back to her work and Pansy was once again pushed out of her attention.

Pansy rolled her eyes, mostly to herself at this point. It did make sense. Lots of files probably appeared shortly after the lunch period as the other Ministry workers left for the day.

She grabbed her stack which she noticed very quickly that there was not just one, but _two_ on her table. To most young witches eager to go home to their lovers, this would be wretched. But Pansy realized immediately that she would enjoy these Friday evenings that held the most work with the least amount of people around.

She made her way to aisle I inside of room five. There were definitely a lot less Archivists working at this time. The only three Pansy had seen in this room all appeared to be leaving for the day. More alone time for her, she figured.

Or not.

Instantly her feet stopped in their place as she peered down aisle I. Standing alone, working on two stacks was Hermione Granger.

 _Ugh,_ Pansy groaned to herself.

She quietly continued down the aisle, hoping that she would pass Granger and be working at least a several sections away from her.

Within thirty seconds she realized that Granger was on section 12, a measly three meters away or so. She groaned again while placing her hand on the small plaque that read I-14, and both her stacks appeared next to her.

Granger didn't budge or give any apparent indication that she had even seen Pansy walk by her.

 _Well, good anyway. It's not like I wanted to chat with her to begin with,_ Pansy thought.

The silence in the room was only broken by drawers opening and closing, and light paper shuffling every few seconds. The rest of the air was dead.

# \--

At least an hour had passed since Parkinson had claimed her spot in section 14, Hermione had surmised when she looked at the large clock on the wall.

_4:04_

_Maybe two hours,_ she considered, noticing that time went by faster in here than she realized.

Either way, they hadn't said a single word since she had come. Hermione didn't want to give her an advantage over her, thinking she could talk to her unnecessarily, or harass her at any time. This wasn't Hogwarts anymore, and she surely wasn't going to allow herself to be bullied any longer.

Now that she thought about it, Parkinson hadn't really done much bullying in their final year at the magical school hidden in the Scottish Highlands.

The dark haired witch who once had the entirety of Slytherin wrapped around her finger had been a lot calmer during their repeat 7th year. She was less invasive and mean, and only snarky if you approached her. Overall you might not even know she was there besides her seemingly bored physical presence.

Surely it had to be because the dark side had lost the war. There was no other logical reason. Why bring more attention to oneself once you'd known you lost?

 _At least she handled it gracefully,_ Hermione thought.

However, based on their previous conversation earlier in the week, she hadn't changed her attitude or her personality.

"Granger."

The voice broke Hermione's deep train of thought when she realized the girl had appeared next to her all of a sudden.

She knit her brows together. "What?" she asked rather rudely to the dark haired girl.

Parkinson's lip pursed itself in annoyance. Hermione was certain she would be on the receiving end of an insult now, or a hex.

"I told you this paper must belong to you. It doesn't go in my section or the one inbetween us."

Hermione squinted to her in confusion, taking a moment to realize Parkinson hadn't actually said something meant to agitate her. But it did seem rather odd that the Ministry would make a mistake. This couldn't be a prank, could it?

She looked down at the paper in the girl's hand, but what caught her eye was a large black and silver ring that fit effortlessly on Parkinson's left ring finger. It was exquisite and beamed with luxury and affluence.

Without another thought as not to stall this any longer, she carefully took the paper that Parkinson held to her and looked at the title. _Improper use of Jelly-Legs Curse; Muggles. . ._

"Yes, I suppose this does go here," Hermione said finally after a long pause, still a bit uncertain, and a little stunned from the flamboyant jewelry.

"Fantastic," Parkinson said with a sarcastic eye roll before turning back to her section.

She watched her retreat, and continued to look at the girl sorting. She worked fast, nearly as fast as herself, which was saying a lot since they had only been there for a week, and Hermione was pretty confident in her abilities already.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you it's rude to stare?"

Hermione blinked a few times before she sucked in a breath.

"I'm sure even _muggles_ know gawking at someone isn't polite," Parkinson said as she rested a hand on her hip and turned to face her.

Hermione opened her mouth but was interrupted by her impatience.

"Come on. Out with it, Granger. What's on your mind? We've got all evening together and I'd rather hear your complaints now."

Hermione scoffed, annoyed at her apparent frustration. "I was just admiring your engagement ring," she said honestly. She wouldn't have been able to come up with a good lie that fast anyway.

A chuckle came from her coworker, which surprised Hermione.

Parkinson lifted her hand up to view the stone mounted on her finger. "It is something, isn't it?" she said slowly, a smirk finding it's way onto her lips. "It's wasted potential on me, though." A bitterness to her tone.

Hermione quirked an eye to her. It was an odd thing to say about your engagement ring.

Parkinson went back to filing a few things when Hermione finally chimed back curiously. "Who are you marrying?"

"Honestly, as if it's any of your damn business, Granger," Parkinson said exasperated.

Hermione could hear the agitation rising in her voice along with the heavy shuffling of her papers.

In return, she rolled her eyes. "Sorry for asking."

There was the natural curiosity of just knowing, but she'd also like to know who to look out for in the future if they ever had an actual dispute.

The Slytherin girl shut the cabinet loudly and opened the next compartment with great force from what Hermione heard down her aisle. So much that her own cabinet vibrated slightly at the action.

Their conversation had stopped for nearly twenty minutes when almost out of nowhere, Parkinson exhaled heavily as she opened another container.

"It's Draco," she said with no emotion to her tone. The quietness around them nearly echoed her words

Hermione stopped the paper she was working on and looked to her. Even in the dim lighting, she could tell the girl was anything but enthusiastic, or even charmed at the idea of marrying who Hermione believed to be the ideal love of Parkinson's life. It was odd to think she would be anything but jovial about her betrothal to Malfoy.

In fact, Hermione thought this was a wonderful pairing. Two equally horrible people coming together only made sense in her head. Harry and Ginny were both loving individuals who cared deeply for others. Her and Ron has been similar, but too different to stay together. Parkinson and Malfoy, who would undoubtedly make rude and narcisistic offspring, naturally belonged together.

"Your silence beckons my thoughts, Granger," Parkinson said as she turned towards her. "Don't tell me all along your secret love has been Draco instead of Wealsey?" she asked with a laugh.

Hermione scrunched her face in disgust. "No, of course not."

Her response only ignited more laughter from the dark haired girl who began to file her papers once again.

"That would be a horrific coupling, honestly. Though you and Weasley are just as equally bad," she said as she calmed down, still cracking a grin.

Hermione glared at her. Her and Ron didn't even compare to the idea of her with _Malfoy._

"I beg to differ," Hermione said in both of their defense.

Parkinson held a smug expression. "Why? They're similar. Did you forget your boyfriend is a pure-blood? They're actually part of the Sacred 28. Poor and outcast from the community, sure, but they've got the blood in them."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No, I wasn't thinking of that in particular," she said vehemently. The pressure rising in her blood. "Ron and his family are down to earth and care about everyone, including muggles and muggle-borns. Your kind only wants to eliminate them."

"My kind?" Parkinson asked with less humor in her voice. "And what do you know about _my kind,_ Granger?"

"I told you last time. You're selfish and only care about the status of your money, your blood, and your marriages."

"If that were true then why am I even working here?"

"I don't know. It's actually kind of baffling!" Hermione chuckled loudly, a little in disbelief.

It was a good thing nobody was around. Neither of them appeared to be good at keeping their volume to a whisper.

"Well since you know all so much," Parkinson seethed. "I'll fill you in on what you've got wrong; I couldn't give a shite about the money my parents have that isn't mine, I don't care about your blood status any longer, and I certainly couldn't care less about my marriage to Draco bloody Malfoy!" she yelled.

Her loud words echoed throughtout the long aisles in the room, and Hermione could barely hear the few breaths taken by the other girl.

Both of them were silent until Parkinson swept a section of hair out of her face and walked past Hermione, brushing her hard on the shoulder as she swiftly left the room. The door closing with a bang was the last thing she heard before she was alone.

# \--

 _Granger, and her bloody know-it-all self,_ Pansy thought as she quickly made her way into the Munchie Café.

 _How can she think that she has the capacity to understand me?_ She continued to probe her own mind. _It's not as if she grew up in a Sacred 28 pure-blood household with rules and expectations that she desperately wished she could throw away now._

_She wouldn't be a disappointment to her family if they found out why she was so against marrying Draco. She wouldn't be cast aside, burned on her family tree, and ridiculed for generations. She'd be fine, surely._

"I'll take a water, please," she said to the wizard behind the counter.

A few sickles and a mumbled thank you later found her sat in the corner of the café that was nearly empty aside from a few wizards discussing their architectural plans.

She groaned while sipping the cold beverage. The icey water burning down her throat.

The hushed conversation of the wizards across the room was actually a great metronome for the current casualties in her mind. It kept her focused, and direct with her thoughts.

 _What am I going to do with her?_ she thought. _Granger is always going to assume she knows everything. She's hardly one to admit when she's wrong. Which clearly she is._

Pansy traced thin lines with her nails on the outside of her bottle. The condensation allowed rivets and small drops to slide down it.

_Maybe I can just ignore her. Surely she'll stop talking if she doesn't get a response. Not that I want to seem like I can't handle her idiotic words though. . ._

The ideas she considered all seemed to fail the moment she thought they may actually be good. That was until she saw a certain wizard walking outside the café, in the large hall of the Atrium.

_Arnold Schmidt!_

Within seconds of seeing him, she bolted out of the café, leaving the rest of her drink behind, and saddled up behind him walking hastily towards an elevator.

"M–Mr. Schmidt!" she called when she caught up to him.

The man spun around and quirked an eye at the intrusion.

Upon seeing the young girl behind him he said, "ah, Pansy. How lovely it is to see you. Please, call me Arn–"

"Arnold, yes. . . sorry," she interrupted with a shake of her hand in the air. "Listen, I need to ask you something."

He shifted on one foot awkwardly. "I'm on my way to a meeting with the Minister's council. Can't it wait?"

Pansy hesitated. It really couldn't. "N–no, but," she started, "I just want to know if it's possible to transfer me to a different department."

Arnold cocked his head to the side. "Why in Merlin's name would you want to do that?"

"Well, you see, there's this girl who I went to school with and we really do not get on well at all. . ."

Arnold laughed. "I'm sorry, Pansy, but that's not the best excuse to move departments. I get it. I do, honestly. There's loads of blokes here that I'm not very fond of. And some _broads._ " He ended in a giggling whisper while glancing around him.

Pansy's heart sank, the distraught showing on her face.

"And anyway, the only opening we have now is toilet cleaning," he grimaced. "I'm sure being an Archivist is a much better option for you."

Pansy shared his reaction. That definitely did seem somewhat a whole lot worse, regardless if Granger wasn't there.

Arnold took a swift look at his wrist. "I must be going now. I don't want to be late. I'll see you around, Pansy," he said with a kind smile.

Pansy nodded, still a little down, and Mr. Schmidt rushed into the next elevator that came, leaving her alone once again.

She sighed heavily and made her way back to the Records Room. Her break was definitely longer than permitted and she didn't want to give Granger any new advantage over her.

# -

The door to room five shut with a soft click, unlike last time when she had nearly slammed it. She quietly made her way down to section I where Granger continued to stand at her cabinet, except her stack was significantly smaller than when she had left.

The girl definitely worked hard. That much Pansy had already known and could appreciate.

Pansy walked past her, and Granger said nothing. She returned to her stack and began to file quickly. Even though she would rather stay at work than at home, she would rather stay at home than with Granger. And that said something.

After what seemed like an hour of pure vocal silence, the Gryffindor girl had appeared next to her with a paper in hand.

Pansy raised a concerned eyebrow at her. What game was Granger playing now?

"Here," she said softly.

Pansy took the paper and read the title. It was one she had seen before, so it definitely belonged in her section.

"Thanks. . ." she replied quietly, still uncertain.

A long moment passed where Pansy wasn't even sure if the girl had realized she had spoken to her at all.

"Look, Parkinson," Granger started, clearing the stillness in the air. Pansy could see the sincerity in her eyes. "I don't want to be arguing with you all the time. It's annoying and just puts us both in a sour mood."

Pansy eyed her carefully, but didn't say anything.

"What I'm saying. . .is that we don't have to talk about anything outside of here. Just work."

Pansy nodded her head. That seemed like a good idea. Which was odd considering it came from her enemy. Even though she agreed, she felt compelled to object to it.

"Which given the fact we've both gotten two wrong papers only a quarter way through, there's a good chance we'll be doing _this_ again," she pointed between their cabinets, clearly agitated at the discrepancies of their stacks.

Pansy chuckled and Granger narrowed her eyes back at her.

"What's so funny?"

"You."

Granger was silent and the insulted look she gave her was growing colder with every second passing.

Pansy smiled at her disdain. "You're so distraught over the simplest thing."

Hermione scoffed lightly. "Well the Ministry should be able to have this better organized. It's magic for God's sake."

Pansy snorted a short laugh and shook her head. "Magic isn't fool proof, Granger. It's not perfect. Nothing is."

After several seconds of what looked like an internal debate on her face, Granger's frown curved it's way into a small smirk that was barely even there, but Pansy found it somewhat pleasing to look at.

"I suppose you're right."

Pansy placed a hand to her chest and opened her mouth dramatically. "Did I just hear Ms. Hermione Granger tell me that I was _right_?"

The Gryffindor rolled her eyes hard. "Oh, shut it," she said as she turned away, but Pansy saw the smile still tugging at her lips.

She went back to her cabinet and began filing again. Pansy did the same and occasionally she glanced at her. She could work with this Granger. She was still annoying, but she wasn't what she expected after their argument earlier. Maybe this would be a lot better than cleaning toilets.

Maybe.

# -

The weekend passed quickly much to Pansy's happiness. She had had dinner again with Draco and his parents, which she only went begrudgingly at her mother's request that she try her best not to turn down their offers. And it had went okay. More talk about their wedding, and more faux interest coming from her about it.

She wasn't sure how many more of these she could handle, truthfully. It was one thing being engaged to Draco, it was another thing having to be _engaging_ in the process of it.

Luckily, a bright spot on Sunday evening came knocking at her door unexpectedly.

It was Daphne.

"Pansy, dear, how have you been?" the long blonde haired girl said as she gave an air kiss to Pansy's cheek.

They exchanged pleasantries and led themselves into one of the Parkinson's many sitting rooms where Pansy let out a large sigh as she flopped her legs over a nearby armchair.

Daphne allowed herself to gracefully sit on the apposing sofa.

"So I heard from Tracey that you've got yourself a nice day job at the Ministry," Daphne started as an elf had begun to serve the tea.

Pansy smiled mirthfully. "Mostly days, and one evening shift."

Daphne grimaced. "Oh I would hate that. I always disliked evening and night classes in school."

"Well at least I'm getting paid."

"Oh, it's not as if you need it," Daphne laughed as she sipped her cup.

Pansy smiled in response, silent.

"So, how's things with Draco and his family?" the blonde asked with an eager grin.

Pansy forced her smile to stay on her face. Daphne was right at her father's party. She couldn't be visibly upset the entire time about her marriage to Draco. It would add suspicion to the main issue. Not that she knew that part.

"We've had several dinners," is all she mustered.

"Well from your cheerful attitude, it seems you two are getting on again."

Pansy gave a soft nod while looking down into her cup.

Before she could ask anymore questions, Mrs. Parkinson made her appearance in the doorway, which prompted Pansy to quickly shift her sitting position as not be scolded by her mother.

"Pansy, who are you–oh!" her mother exclaimed with a smile when she looked at the blonde sitting across from her daughter, "Daphne, what brings you over here so late in the evening?"

The girl smiled. "I've come to chat with Pansy. Our family has just gotten back from our trip to Paris and I wanted to catch up about the wedding."

"Oh, wonderful. I love Paris!" Pansy's mother smiled to the both of them.

# -

Two cups of tea and a small tray of cookies later, and the two women continued their conversation of their shared interest about the famous Jardin des Tuileries. So extravagant that even the magical world adored it's beauty. Or at least that's what Pansy had gathered as she mostly remained somewhat dully attentive, still thinking about having to get up early in the morning for her job.

 _What if I'm working with Granger again,_ a concern began to grow in the back of her mind.

After their mutual agreement to not talk about anything but work, and several parchment swaps later, their stacks had finished and all went without issue. It went so above par between them that Granger had even offered a wave when the two departed. No 'good-bye's' or 'see you later's.' Just a simple wave before she left the Records Room, leaving Pansy a little unnerved at the action.

And somehow that simple gesture wiggled itself into her mind slowly throughout the weekend.

"Pansy, don't you agree?" Her mother asked with a smile suddenly.

Pansy blinked several times and looked between her mother and Daphne who both wore large expecting grins.

Knowing she would probably be scolded by her mother for being rude to their guest, she smiled unknowingly and said, "yes."

Small claps and giggles came from both women who continued to chat about whatever it was they were talking about. The anxiety now pressing on Pansy's mind about just exactly what she had agreed to.

"I promise you, Pansy, I will be the best maid of honor any pure-blood has ever had." Daphne nearly squealed.

Well that wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought. For all of she knew, she had agreed to marry Draco tonight and quit her job tomorrow morning.

In light of this new information, Pansy smiled genuinely. This was not something she was actually distraught over.

Having Daphne as a maid of honor was actually a good thing. She could easily trust her with all of the planning and organizing. The girl breathed like an heiress. And most importantly, it would make her friend ecstatic and give Pansy a lot less to worry about while allowing her more time to cope with the actuality of the situation. Sitting down and planning over the next few months may actually cause her to break down mentally if all of the decisions were up to her, or someone she didn't trust.

If she was going through with this wedding, she may as well have a great maid of honor to plan it.

"I'm so excited. Especially because of all the parties I get to organize!" Daphne said with clear enthusiasm.

Her mother nodded encouragingly, and Pansy smiled at both of them.

This would be perfect if she actually wanted to do this. If she actually wanted to marry Draco. If she actually wanted to participate in this culture. It would be a dream come true for the girl she used to be years ago.

Sadly, she had changed while no one around her seemed to notice. The closer she got to her family and friends, the further she felt from them. The sinking feeling was devastating, and continued to swell in her chest, heavy with a sensation that she couldn't describe.

By the time Daphne had left, and she had said good-night to her parents, the dread that continued to eat in her stomach finally swallowed the last piece.

And for the first time in a long time, she cried herself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be providing more Hermione POV and the story is going to pick up at this point.


	4. Contemplation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Hermione POV :)
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes! I only proof-read once. & apologies that it took a min to update. :) This chapter stumped me for a while.

Rain drizzled down the narrow window pane in Hermione's living room. The soft sounds of the droplets ticked lightly on the glass while the fire in the floo crackled every so often.

Hermione held a small cup of tea close to her chest as Ginny and Luna sat opposite of her on the couch. The two girls giggled and chatted lightly about their recent events.

"My father has asked me to write a few articles in the Quibbler," Luna said brightly.

"What are you gonna write about?" Ginny asked while uncrossing her legs and placing them over Luna's lap.

"As you know, I've had many experiences with Nargles the last few years at Hogwarts. I was thinking I could warn people about common signs to look for."

Ginny quirked an eye to her with a smirk. "Seems informational."

"Oh, yes it really will be. They're dangerous if not taken care of."

Ginny chortled lightly while turning her head to Hermione. "Tell me, 'Mione. How's your first week at the Ministry? Dad tells me you're probably overwhelmed."

Hermione smiled. "A little at first, but nothing I can't handle."

"That's what I told him." She winked.

Luna tilted her head. "Hermione, what position are you working in?"

"The Records Room as an Archivist."

"No doubt she'll be Head Archivist within the month!" Ginny giggled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I've barely got a hold on what I'm doing already. It isn't hard, there's just a lot."

"Have you met anybody from Hogwarts yet?" Luna asked. "Plenty of graduates start their careers at the Ministry."

Hermione swallowed. She had only met one person so far up close that she and Luna and Ginny had gone to school with. There was no sense in lying to her best friends. It would be nice to have some backup if Parkinson decided to change her tune.

"I work with Parkinson," she finally said after a long silence. A small exhale left her lungs at the girls' reaction.

"No way!" Ginny gaped. "That's bonkers. How do you think she secured a job like that?"

"Pansy was a good student." Luna said objectively.

"Sorry if I don't keep up with her N.E.W.T. scores, Luna," Ginny said with a flashy grin. "It's not as if we were close. Quite the opposite actually. She's a huge bitch to anyone that has nothing to offer her."

Luna shrugged her shoulders when suddenly Ginny threw her legs off of her and gripped the arm of the sofa to face Hermione.

"Hold on, why is Parkinson working at the Ministry when she's going to marry Malfoy?"

"That's what I was wondering! Wait. . ." Hermione's eyes went wide with shock. "How do you know about that?"

Ginny quirked an eye. "How do _you_ know about that?" she retorted, showing just as much surprise as Hermione did.

"She told me," Hermione explained simply.

Silence overtook the group for a few seconds.

"Really? You actually talked to her?" Ginny narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Sort of. We mostly just yelled at each other. Or insulted one another" she huffed lightly.

Ginny lied back on the couch with her hands behind her head. "Sounds like Parkinson," she said with pursed lips.

Luna cleared her throat a moment later. "So how do you know Pansy is getting married, Ginny?"

"Oh!" The red head sat up straight. "There's a girl on my Quidditch team who was in Slytherin. A few years ahead of us, but she's 'in the know.'" Ginny said seriously with air quotes.

"What do you mean?"

Ginny turned back to Hermione. "She's related to a few Sacred 28 families. I think she said Greengrass and Black? Either way. . . she said her cousin wouldn't shut up about their marriage later this autumn."

Hermione sat back in her chair, contemplative. Now was a good time to learn as much as she could about Parkinson's marriage. Knowledge was always helpful, even if Hermione didn't like gossip. It could be dangerous and devastating. That she had learned in fourth year from none other than Rita Skeeter. But no less, she trusted Ginny and what she may know.

"Did she say anything in particular about this marriage? Because Parkinson really didn't seem excited about it." Hermione said while placing her tea to the side.

Ginny hummed lightly for a moment. "Viola said it was arranged between the families, but I'm surprised to hear that Parkinson isn't head over heels."

Hermione nodded her head. "I thought that was odd too, considering how close they were for years."

"Yes, but I remember Pansy wasn't very fond of him sometime in my fifth year," Luna said with an airy gaze. "I bumped into her and him in the library once. It appeared he had made her cry."

"What did they say?" Ginny asked extremely interested.

"Draco told me to get lost, but Pansy said I was already there."

Ginny and Hermione eyed each other carefully.

"They weren't wrong," Luna said with a smile, "I had turned a few wrong corners which is where I found them."

Hermione smiled and Ginny stifled a laugh while Luna continued to explain more in depth about how she got lost in the first place and what she had been searching for that day. It turned the conversation quickly into many different topics and Hermione's friend's voices slowly drowned out as her brain hung on tight to Parkinson's marriage arrangement.

It did seem awful. Being forced to marry someone whom you didn't wish to be with. Especially someone like Malfoy. Hermione nearly gagged at the idea. But she was glad she wasn't the only one to see their old Slytherin bully disliking her betrothal to the bloke was odd. It just didn't add up.

What could have changed Parkinson in sixth year that Hermione hadn't noticed? Surely, she didn't pay attention, but Harry had said Malfoy acted strange that school year due to his initiation as a Death Eater for Lord Voldemort.

Someone as awful and stuck up as her should've been proud to have a former Death Eater on her arm then and now. It just didn't make sense. Though, she had said to her she didn't care about certain statuses anymore. Or rather, she yelled it no less. Could it all be a ploy?

"Luna?" Hermione interrupted her and Ginny's conversation about the Quibbler.

Luna smiled and asked softly, "what is it, Hermione?"

"What you said earlier. You said Parkinson was crying?"

Luna nodded her head. She placed a finger to the bottom of her lip for a moment. "Her eyes were wet, and it appeared she had been pushing Draco away. I believe shortly after this the rumor went around that they had broken up."

Hermione concentrated deeply on the light blonde's words.

"What did you hear about their break up?" Hermione asked.

If she remembered correctly, she could only conjure the faded memory of Pavarti mentioning it in passing when Parkinson had hexed a second year without reason. At the time she thought she was being overly dramatic.

"Pansy said it was for personal reasons. And Draco didn't say anything at all about it. They went their separate ways."

Hermione took a moment to let this sink in. What personal reasons could Parkinson have had to end things with Malfoy?

"Maybe he cheated on her and she didn't want anyone to know she wasn't the hottest thing around," Ginny said with a laugh.

Hermione smiled coyly. "I don't think so. I'm sure she would've gotten sent to Azkaban for the curses she would've placed on him if he had cheated on her."

"True," Ginny replied quickly with a grin. She took a sip of her drink, and after a moment she said casually, "Maybe she's gay."

"What?" Hermione sat forward an inch.

"I said maybe she's gay," Ginny reiterated.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. That honestly didn't sound right. But somehow it didn't sound wrong neither.

"I'm only joking," she said with a wave of a hand towards her. "I highly doubt Parkinson's in the closet." A moment passed before she added laughing, "though I'm sure she would enjoy all of her clothes in there."

Hermione forced a chuckle but it didn't feel right. The idea of Pansy Parkinson being gay made her feel slightly awkward. She wasn't homophobic, not in any sense, but somehow seeing that as a possibility for her blatant disdain on marrying Malfoy made for a solid reason. A very low chance, but one nonetheless.

"Well, we better go home, Hermione," Ginny said as she glanced at the clock on the wall.

Hermione looked too and saw that it was nearly eleven.

"Plus I'm sure you want to get a good night's rest before work tomorrow with _Parkinson._ " Ginny laughed while collecting her jacket.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The chances I have working with her are slim, Gin."

"But they're still chances."

"Maybe you and Pansy will become friends after working together for a while," Luna said as she approached Ginny by the door.

"I doubt that, Luna. The girl hates me, and I'm not particularly fond of her either." Hermione said with a half grin.

"Just try not to get fired," Ginny said with a wink. "Or hexed."

Hermione laughed. "I'll do my best. We aren't speaking about outside work things so we'll see how long that lasts before she manages to bring my insecurities and surprisingly my achievements into the mix again."

A few laughs crossed the room for the last time that evening and within a matter of minutes, several good-byes and hugs later, Hermione was once again alone in her flat.

But now she had more questions, and less answers.

# -

Friday came quickly and Hermione was happy that she hadn't seen Parkinson all week. It was one less thing to stress about once she got settled into her section for her shifts, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't apprehensive when thinking about the next work day.

 _Slim chances,_ she reminded herself.

It was unlikely to continue to bump into her when there were so many Archivists working in the department. However she had learned very quickly from last week that Friday was the day if there was any day to see Parkinson at work.

The girl stood quietly while fingering through several papers in her arms and paying close attention to her cabinets. Hermione walked right behind her and turned to face her own section.

They were practically back to back.

"Fancy seeing you here again, Granger," Parkinson said with a light tone to her voice.

Hermione heard shuffling and a compartment roll open.

"I can say the same," she said with a inaudible sigh.

A soft chuckle rang through her ears from the girl behind her. "Oh, don't be so harsh. I know you're dying to work with me again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As I'm sure you are."

Parkinson let out a long sigh before she said, "it could be worse."

Hermione quirked an eye. She didn't want to egg the girl on but she was extremely curious as how this situation could be inherently worse for both of them.

"How so?"

"I had been invited to a dinner party tonight at Draco's that I am unable to attend to," the girl said with a mirthful attitude.

Hermione cracked a grin. Knowing Parkinson loathed the idea of being anywhere near Malfoy was humorous at least. Regardless of the potential reasons. It made for good conversation.

"I'm sure that would be dreadful," she said honestly in response.

"Incredibly," Parkinson said dryly.

"Are your friends going?" Hermione asked, wondering if she was pushing it too far.

"Yes. It is quite a public party within our social class. I'm sure they'll all be going."

"You won't miss seeing them?"

Silence erupted the pair and Hermione could hear that Parkinson had stopped filing. She bit her lip at the implication that she may have offended her. Not because she cared about her feelings, but because she cared about her head not being hexed.

"They'll be fine without me," she said somberly. "I'm not much of a party person anymore anyway."

"Could've fooled me," Hermione said trying to lighten the mood.

"What in Merlin's name does that mean?" A sharp enunciation ruptured through the girls question.

Hermione turned around to find her staring straight at her. Apparently she had also turned to face her after Hermione's rebuttal. She seemed strained, but curious no less. It was fascinating that Hermione had this much power over a single thought in regards to her.

Hermione smirked. "You're always so well dressed."

Parkinson looked down at her outfit and Hermione admired the black, fitted blouse that tailored well with her dark pants.

She looked back up as Parkinson said, "oh, please, Granger. This is hardly an outfit for a party."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

The Slytherin narrowed her eyes sharply and let out a disgruntled huff before turning back to her work. Hermione did the same.

After several minutes of silence between the two women, Parkinson cleared her throat.

"My father would have me tossed in Azkaban if I decided to wear pants to a gathering," she said with amusement to her tone.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "Isn't that idea a bit out dated?"

Parkinson hummed. "A lot of our pure-blood ideologies are."

Hermione chewed on her lip.

The dark haired girl sighed. "I don't mind dresses, but I find the attention they bring to be rather repulsing."

"Attention?"

"From my father's friends or their sons." Parkinson said bitterly with a disgust to her tone. "Or both."

_Ah._

That made sense, Hermione considered. She disliked the copious attention she had gotten from everyone at the Yule Ball. The only one she really cared about impressing was Viktor. . . and Ron. . .

"The patriarchy is alive and well," Hermione said with a sarcastic smile that she knew the girl couldn't see.

"Even more so in my family," Parkinson mused.

The Gryffindor exhaled quickly. "I'm sure that gets tiring. I can't imagine keeping up with it all."

After a few moments, the girl's voice perked back up to it's normally slightly annoyed pitch. "Granger, I don't mean to dampen this conversation anymore than I have, but I thought we weren't talking about things outside of work?"

Hermione turned her head to look at her. Within seconds, she was met with emerald eyes staring back into hers. She wore an amused smile before turning back to her papers, silence drawing between them.

It didn't seem annoyed or even mean. The smile was what Hermione would consider genuine. Which was bizarre. However, she did think it looked good on her. When her face wasn't scrunched into a sneer or nasty words coming from her mouth, Parkinson was actually quite beautiful.

The realization dawned on her thoughts. It wasn't something she had ever had come over her so suddenly. She went to school with many pretty girls who got all the boys' attention. All the students had known that and it was general knowledge. But this was different. This new thought about Parkinson had changed so drastically just from one simple glance. Not that she had ever considered her ugly. Not in her physique, at least, but _beautiful?_

 _Her smile was pretty,_ Hermione thought to herself as she felt a tiny heat creep onto her cheeks.

An odd thing to think about someone who a person generally disliked. But how can someone say they dislike someone whilst chatting casually.

It was weird, and Hermione's brain needed to comprehend this.

It was clear that the more the two of them talked, the more interested in Pansy Parkinson's life Hermione became. She knew a lot about pure-blood ideas from textbooks she'd read, schoolmates she'd had, and the overall posh attitude that radiated from the community whenever she had been around them occasionally.

But alongside her newfound interest in her work partner, there was something else she couldn't account for. Something wrapped tightly in a package in her mind, that when she dug through the wrapping, she only found it to be more tangled in paper underneath.

And if Hermione was the brightest witch of their age, she would be able to uncover it, if no one else.

# -

The Burrow had always been a comfort spot for Hermione ever since she first stayed there the summer before third year.

The quirky, wonky, lopsided house she once knew had been recreated into one that was similar, but the difference it rang only reminded her of the battle that had happened there nearly four years prior.

She shook off the memory of the Death Eaters that had blown the house and the land around them to the ground.

A simple knock on the back door was suffice enough to alert someone inside.

Through the dusty windows, Hermione could see the stout red headed figure known as Molly Weasley dusting her hands on her apron, approach the door.

"Can I help yo–Hermione!" she beamed loudly and Hermione was thrust into a nearly bone crushing embrace.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," she let out with a broken breath.

From her reaction, the loving mother Hermione always admired, and even more so after she killed the murderous, treacherous, Bellatrix Lestrange, let go off her with a sympathetic laugh and pat on the shoulder.

"Hermione, darling, you know you don't have to knock!" The woman said with an earnest smile while opening the door wider for Hermione to step in.

A slight blush crossed Hermione's cheeks. It was true she had been told she was welcomed at any time and to just come on in, but it wasn't in her nature to intrude into someone's personal space without permission. Even when she visited her parents, she knocked politely out of respect for them.

"I know, Molly, but–"

"Ronnie! Hermione's here." The woman called behind them while she interrupted her.

The ceiling jostled slightly as several heavy footsteps fell from the second and third floor.

"Did you say Hermione's here?" Ginny poked her head around the corner of the stairs quickly.

"'Mione," Ron followed shortly after.

It wasn't long until Harry joined a moment later and Hermione greeted everyone softly as more and more Weasley's descended down the stairs and out of random rooms around the house including Mr. Weasley and Charlie who was visiting from afar.

"Pleasure to see you again, Hermione," Charlie said with a small kiss on her hand.

She smiled politely and gave a sideways glance to Ron who instantly furrowed his eyebrows towards his brother.

"Oye. Just because we aren't together anymore, doesn't mean you can do that," Ron said as he took a step towards him.

Charlie chuckled and let go of Hermione's hand. He leaned himself against a banister and gave Ron a large smirk. "Relax, I'm just being a _gentleman,_ Ron."

Ron grunted loudly while the boys' mother walked between them.

"I will not have any fights in this house over a girl! Especially Hermione," she said while wagging a finger in their faces. She turned to Charlie specifically. "And don't try steal Hermione from Ron. They might end up back together, you know," she whispered to him with a hopeful tone.

Hermione cringed slightly. It was awkward visiting to begin with, and Mrs Weasley wasn't making it any easier. The air in the room was beginning to feel thick.

"Mum . . ." Ron started as his cheeks turned two shades redder than normal.

Mrs. Weasley gave an apologetic smile towards her son. "Alrighty then, supper will be ready soon! Hermione, make yourself at home," she said and then disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen.

"Well come on, Ginny. Let's go practice that broom trick you've been asking me about all day now that I'm done with my reports," Charlie said with a eager grin.

Ginny's face lit up instantly. She mumbled a quick sorry to Hermione for leaving suddenly and the two Weasley's left out the back door a moment later.

This left Ron, Harry, and Arthur Weasley standing in the foyer as a silence overcame them.

Mr Weasley shoved his hands into his pockets. "Well then, how about some tea?"

Hermione smiled. "That would be lovely."

# -

Hermione always liked talking to Arthur. He was a wonderful father figure, husband, and loved his job almost as much as his family. Most importantly, to her at least, he had a keen interest in muggles. The Weasley family, particularly Mr. Weasley, always made her parents feel welcomed when they came around or found themselves in Diagon Alley before school over the years.

"I've been studying this particular muggle item now for about two months. I was hoping you could give me some insight on it," he said.

Hermione nodded, eager to know what it was about.

"My colleagues and I can't seem to understand what this does. It's called a 'sharpener for pencils.'"

A small chuckle left her before she asked, "A pencil sharpener?"

"Yes, yes, precisely!" he replied excitedly. "It's an odd thing. It has a crank on one side and a small hole on the other. We can't figure out what the bugger is for. We've studied pencils but not. . . sharpeners."

Mr. Weasley appeared incredibly perplexed as did Ron. Harry grinned towards Hermione as he waited for her response.

Hermione explained with relative ease that pencils, unlike quills, did not need to be dipped in ink, and that the graphite on the end became duller over time or they simply snapped, and the sharpener let the user being it back to a fine point.

Mr. Weasley wrote several notes down in his booklet with keen interest.

"That's wonderful, Hermione, honestly beautiful. I can't imagine how difficult it must be being a muggle and having to continuously sharpen a writing utensil. It must be exhausting," he said as he flipped through the pages.

Hermione smiled, and dared not explain ink pens to the man.

"So, how've things been at the Ministry for you? Ron and Harry are as exhausted as ever being Aurors fresh out of the academy."

Ron groaned at the mention. "It feels like the bone inside my bones aches," he said while rubbing a sore muscle on his arm.

Harry grimaced too. "They've got us running around doing all sorts of things."

Hermione nodded empathetically. At least her job wasn't physical draining as it was mentally and _emotionally_ when her and Parkinson went at each other's throats.

"It's going well, Mr. Weasley. I'm very thankful for your recommendation."

"Pleasure, Hermione. Not that you needed it. I saw your scores from Hogwarts. Top of your year, might I add. And saving the world is a feat no one but you three can claim."

She smiled gently while sipping her tea. It was true she enjoyed the compliments for what she had done, but it was beginning to get tiring with all the publicity. Not that she minded from friends though.

Harry leaned forward towards her. "Ginny told me they've got you working with Malfoy's old girlfriend."

Ron made a disgusted look. "Parkinson?"

Hermione sighed with a simple smile while wondering how many times she'd have to have this conversation. It was true at the beginning it was more shocking than not, but now it was almost normal. She shivered slightly at the implication that being around Pansy Parkinson was a _normal_ thing now.

"Yes, and I'm sure you're well aware that they're engaged now," she said.

Ron's face continued to twist deeper. " _Engaged?_ To that bloke?" he said aghast. "Don't get me wrong. I don't like the girl at all but that's gotta be awful even for her."

Harry quirked an eye. "I dunno. Parkinson always seemed very interested in Malfoy even when he wasn't interested in her. She was always fawning over him day after day until he gave her a chance."

Ron shrugged while relaxing into his chair. "All I'm saying is he's a right foul dick. Probably makes for a shite husband, too."

"Ronald Weasley!" A sharp voice echoed throughout the halls. "Watch your vocabulary around a lady! I can hear you all the way in the kitchen!"

Ron recoiled back into his chair with a squeamish look.

Arthur laughed quietly. "Don't mind your mother, son. You know she's got the ears of a tarantula hawk," he hushed.

"Arthur!" The voice rang again.

Mr. Weasley closed his eyes tightly. "I'll go see if she needs help," he exhaled.

And within a few seconds, Mr. Weasley vanished. Light whispering could be heard from the other side of the house which eventually turned silent.

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, anyway. Let us know if Parkinson is up to something. Harry and I might be able to pull our weight around."

Hermione chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You don't seem as upset as I would expect you to be, Hermione," Harry said with concern in his voice. "Parkinson tortured you for years and called you awful things."

Hermione sighed a little saddened. "That is true. She hasn't apologized for anything, but we've settled our most jarring differences aside for the time being."

"Like being an arsehole and not being an arsehole?" Ron whispered.

Harry and Hermione shared a laugh and Ron joined them a second later.

"One of them, yes," Hermione said while wiping a tear from her eye.

"Well that's good, I guess," Harry said. "But if she's marrying Malfoy anytime soon it may be harder for us to help you."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "True. But I think we'll get on just fine if we continue this way." Hermione said as she sat back into her lounger. "And anyway, she's not so keen on marrying him. I doubt she'll even bring him into anything. If she hates him that much, she wouldn't want his help," she added.

Harry's eyebrows became fixed in the middle of his forehead. "That's odd. I was at the Ministry when they _barely_ cleared his family, mostly his mother and him, of their connections to the Death Eaters. His father is still being watched very carefully while doing community services."

"You think Parkinson is mad because they denounced Voldemort?" Ron asked while pressing his elbows onto his knees, keen with interest.

"I don't think so," Hermione said quietly. "She doesn't seem to enjoy her pure-blood circle as much as she used to."

"Well, I wasn't there when she got cleared," Harry said. "Their family had almost no ties. At least none they could find."

"I bet that's a load of bollocks," Ron said. "You can't have a person be as nasty and purist without a horrible upbringing."

Harry swiveled in his seat. "Not necessarily. Sirius' family were pure-blood believers. And he was different."

Ron shrugged casually.

"Well Sirius wasn't an arse in school," Hermione said defensively.

Harry smirked. "Maybe not to the wrong people," he said.

Hermione nodded. It was true they all had a biased view of Sirius in comparison to Parkinson. He was a Gryffindor, and had bullied Slytherins like Professor Snape with Harry's dad over the years. The behavior was similar at best. Sirius was a kind fellow who loathed the dark witches and wizards, but still, he had been quite the scoundrel in his younger days with James and Lupin. 

"Well maybe she's changed," Harry offered as he took a sip of his tea.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I'm not so sure. It is weird that she hasn't just quit over dealing with me. Now that I'm thinking about it at least."

"Well Malfoy's family is still powerful and they have a decent amount of money left," Harry said. "I can't see any other reason she'd stay at the Ministry."

"She's probably working to get away from the bloke," Ron said.

Hermione tilted her head. That actually made the most sense.

"Ronald, you're probably onto something. She did say she has no interest in marrying him. It only makes sense she would keep her job to stay away from him _and_ any pure-blood parties like last Friday."

The boys narrowed their eyes at her confused.

"Nevermind that part, but truthfully, Ron, I think you've cracked it."

Ron smiled lightly. "Well now the real question is 'why?'" he hesitated, "I'm sure there's more reason than he's just an arse."

Hermione placed a hand to her cheek. Ron was right. There had to be more to Parkinson's real reason for working at the Ministry. Before this, she hasn't even considered it was to get away from him and her family. But why? It couldn't be because of what Ginny had said. There was no way.

Working at the Ministry was one reason Hermione and Ron had split. He wanted a simpler home life. A mother to his children who was always there to provide. A lot like his own mother. Not that there was anything wrong with that, Hermione knew. But it wasn't what she wanted. She knew she had great potential to change wizard society. And the only way to do that was to move up in the Ministry.

Someone like Parkinson seemed like she would enjoy being a rich wife with little to do except boss around their elves and provide children for their families. Maybe she had _actually_ changed since their earlier schooldays.

Suddenly, a red head poked around the corner. Mrs. Weasley smiled at them.

"Dinner's ready now, dears. I had Arthur fetch Ginny and Charlie," she said with an inquisitive eye and then disappeared back towards the kitchen.

The three friends stood and made their way down the hallways.

"Well, anyway, Hermione. Just let us know if Parkinson's giving you trouble. We'll do what we can," Ron said with a earnest smile.

That was one thing Hermione had missed about being with him. He was always protective and caring, even if he was a bit sloppy and hard headed at times. Ron loved hard for his family and friends.

Harry winked to both of them. "We'll show up at her house with a search order.'

Hermione gaped. "No, Harry! That could be dangerous for you. Just because Parkinson is acting odd doesn't mean her family is!"

Ron snickered. "Our job is already dangerous, 'Mione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me. I worry sick about you both."

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close. "We are always careful, Hermione. No need to worry."

"I don't think that'll stop me," she said.

Ron exhaled. "Blimey, Harry, you know Hermione worries about everything from our lives to the creased paper corners in library books."

A slight groan left Ron's mouth after Hermione's hand had struck him hard on the upper arm.

"It's impolite to ruin someone else's book!" she said exasperated. "And you're only alive today _because_ I worry so much."

Harry smiled. "That's true."

Hermione returned the gesture and hooked her arms through the boys on each side, and the three of them entered the kitchen to be greeted by plates upon plates of dinners to eat.

"Oh, I do miss this," Hermione said while staring as the delicious smells wafted through the air and into her nose.

"You're welcome any time, dear," Mrs. Weasley said.

Hermione blushed. She did need to visit more. It had only been about two weeks, but it was starting to feel longer. This was her family, too, regardless if her and Ron weren't together anymore. Her friends were her family for life.


	5. Sunshine Doesn't Make for a Nice Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - minor suicide reference, implied homophobia, mature language

The first several weeks at the Ministry had found Pansy pleasantly surprised with how well she was able to mentally escape her looming demise. Her marriage to Draco was approaching rapidly and the two had set their wedding date for 1st of October. With each day and silent minute that ticked non stop, she was starting to panic.

At first she noticed every time she returned home from work, her chest began to ache for no plausible reason.

Soon after that began, night terrors set in. And they weren't related to her marriage or family and friends. Bizarrely enough, they always had her at work: Rummaging through pages she couldn't find a spot for; Granger asking her to follow her down hallways only to never stop and eventually they'd get lost; strangers bumping into her through the hallways of the Ministry with eyes of distrust and mouths pursed with disgust. They always looked down on her, and she felt a need to hide herself away from them.

She would wake up in a light sweat, with the dreams becoming more vivid each time. And oddly enough, Granger had slowly begun to leak herself into all of them in some form besides the normal one of them getting lost.

 _'Normal,'_ she thought with a shake of her head.

These dreams were not normal. And Hermione Granger hanging in the background of each one was definitely not normal. In fact, it was rather distracting. Almost all of the dreams had Granger grabbing Pansy's hand, and she'd be lying if she said it didn't make her heart race and feel awkward the next time she saw her in person. Sometimes she wondered if her hands were as soft and warm in real life as they were in her head.

With a deep sigh to clear her mind, Pansy placed the final swab of a deep red gloss to her lips. She was thankful that makeup and magic easily concealed the dark circles underneath her eyes from her unrestful sleep.

"Pansy!" Her mother called from below the stairs. "Please hurry, I don't want to make the Greengrasses wait any longer."

Pansy closed her eyes one last time, allowing herself to fully repress her emotions behind her mask. She could make it through today. It was just another outting. Sort of.

"I'm coming," she called back a second later.

She smoothed the hem of her skirt, grabbed her bag and made her way down the steps to their entryway.

"It's about time," her mother said hurriedly as a house elf waved a hand towards the door to open.

Pansy raised her eyebrows slightly. "We're having lunch with Draco. I should look good, shouldn't I?" she asked coyly.

Her mother laughed. "Save it for your wedding, dear. You always look astonishing anyway. That's how I raised you."

Pansy smiled, but she didn't mean it. She could deal with having to pretend to be getting ready for Draco when in reality she was stalling to regain her own sanity for even a minute longer.

"Come on, the girls are waiting for us down at the shop," her mother said as they walked outside in front of their garden.

Pansy sighed once again and placed a hand on her mother's silver jumper.

"You know your father doesn't like apparating out of the house when he's working," Mrs. Parkinson said harshly.

Pansy rolled her eyes and both her and her mother said at the same time, "'It's distracting because the noise is quite irritating, even if it's brief.'"

Mrs. Parkinson gave Pansy a knowing smile and without another word the two witches disappeared from in front of their estate.

A small pop later, and they stood in a secured alleyway that was monitored by people from the Ministry.

This area of London was well populated by witches and wizards, but muggles passed through frequently. Their illusionment charms and spells hid the more extravagant parts of their culture from them including entire buildings and shops.

Within a five minute walk, Pansy and her mother found themselves in front of one of the most prestigious clothing shops in magical England.

Pansy gazed as beautiful wedding dresses were hung on what muggles had called 'maniquins.'

Most of the dresses she had seen usually sparkled with magic or had an actual flowing veil, but these were tailored to _look_ like normal dresses in the front window.

The pair of Parkinson's stepped inside the small shop that opened up to one much larger than it looked. Dozens of white dresses floated around the store alongside many other party dresses of all sorts of colors for any special occasion.

Pansy lifted a small label nearby at one dress that was listed at $500 galleons. The price seemed marginal for their class, and Pansy knew her parents would have no objection to any of these options for her to choose from.

"That one is lovely, dear, but they've got their exclusive collection in the back. Pricer, but absolutely invigorating," her mother said as she tugged on Pansy's arm to follow her.

 _Yep,_ Pansy thought, _there isn't anything in this shop that isnt going to be too expensive for my family._

A woman approached them from behind a counter.

Mrs. Parkinson raised her chin slightly. "We're here with the Greengrasses. We'll be picking out my daughter's wedding dress today."

The woman clasped her hands together excitedly. "Of course, Mrs. Parkinson. The girl's are in the back room for VIPs only."

Mrs. Parkinson smiled. "Thank you, dear."

The woman turned to look at Pansy. "There's not a single dress in here that you won't want," she said grinning.

Pansy smiled politely but didn't say anything. This store could hold the most beautiful, expensive dress in the world, and she would still rather set it on fire if it meant she didn't have to marry Draco.

The woman ushered them to the back and within a few minutes, Pansy and her mother were greeted with a loud squeal and a snug embrace.

"Oh, Pansy I am so excited," Daphne said into her ear.

Pansy hugged her back. It was nice to see her friend so happy, even if was for a reason that made her want to disappear from all aspects of life.

The Parkinson's greeted Astoria and Mrs. Greengrass who Pansy hadn't seen in nearly a year. She looked the same, but she had cut her long blonde hair to sit nicely on her shoulders. It actually made her look younger.

"I'm so glad we're finally here, Pansy," Astoria said with a smile. "My sister literally won't shut up about it. I've nearly gone mad."

Pansy smiled at the younger Greengrass who was clearly exhausted at her own expense from being around her sister. Pansy thought it was hilarious that there could be someone almost as tired as she was about the ordeal. _Almost._

"Alright, Pansy. I've already arranged for the girls at the shop here to let you try on some of their most unique and private collections," Mrs. Parkinson said as she waved her wand over several hanging bags.

Pansy held her breath tightly as the dresses unpacked themselves.

Within seconds, three gorgeous dresses hung in the air in front of her. They were absolutely astonishing. She actually liked them. White wasn't her color, but these were very well designed and tailored.

"Pick one and head into the dressing room to try it on. If you need help, Daphne or I can come in," her mother said with a smile.

Pansy pulled the first one out of the air and turned quickly into the dressing room adjacent to their waiting area.

It wasn't hard to decide. She really didn't care all that much. They all equally looked beautiful. Now it depended on how well they fit. She did not want to be any more uncomfortable than she was going to be.

She closed the door lightly and turned to find herself in front of several mirrors cascaded around the room. A red lounge was nestled in the corner that looked inviting.

She took a moment to sit down and flopped the dress next to her. Tears began to well up into her eyes and her chest ached. This was too much for her to deal with.

"Stop it!" she mumbled to herself quietly. _I can't cry now. . . I can't. . .they can't see._

"How's it going, hun?" Her mother's voice said through the door.

Pansy wiped her eye from the one tear that managed to escape. She cleared her throat.

"Wonderful. I'll be out in a minute," she said quickly to deter her mother from barging in.

She checked her makeup in the mirror. Her charms held up well, and without another thought of self doubt, she undressed at a rapid pace.

Within two minutes she had the dress on, snug against her body. The dress showed off her curves and it wasn't too revealing. She didn't mind it, truthfully.

She stepped out into the room and several gasps and awes jumbled together with responses such as:

'How does it fit?'

'Its beautiful!'

'Mum, if Pansy doesn't get this dress, I want it!'

Pansy smiled and waited for the women to calm down before responding.

"It fits nice. I like it," she said nonchalantly.

"Well, don't just settle," her mother said. "Try on the others. You aren't jumping for joy just yet."

Pansy exhaled quietly through her nose. She was going to have to give a show after all. She groaned internally.

Without another word, she pulled the second dress from the wardrobe and went back into the dressing room.

She took less time to try this one on, since she was going to have to try all of them, she may as well do it fast.

Within the first few seconds of having it on, she felt incredibly exposed by the bust that was open all the way down to her navel, and the arms on this one were tighter than the last.

"Come on! Let us see!" A cheer came from Daphne most likely, Pansy mused.

Pansy stepped out and the women gave a similar reaction, if not better.

"It's so beautiful," Mrs. Greengrass said.

"I think Draco will love it," Daphne winked.

Astoria remained silent after Daphne's remark, and Pansy turned to her mother.

"Do you like it?" she asked while pacing around her daughter and lifting up the back end of the dress.

"It's a bit. . . revealing. Don't you think?" Pansy bit her lip uncertain.

"Surely, yes, but it looks wonderful on you. Your skin radiates from it," her mother said with a smile.

Mrs. Greengrass laughed. "Don't worry, Pansy. Nobody will think you're a whore."

The girl's laughed and Pansy forced herself to join in.

"Everyone excepted you and Draco to end up together anyway," Daphne said. "No one will think anything but the best of this dress."

"Really?" Pansy furrowed her eyebrows.

"Well, yes! Sure you two broke up for a bit, but now that the war is over. . ." Daphne hesitated after taking a quick glance at her mother who seemed slightly perturbed at her daughter's casual mention if it, "it was only due time for you two." She ended her speech with a smile.

Pansy smiled back. She honestly had no idea that anybody expected them to get back together. But it did make sense. She had been known for a long time for a flair for the dramatic. Plus, no one knew the real reason they had broken up anyway. Except Draco, sort of:

It had been the next day when he approached her hiding in the back of the library at school. He said he wasn't sure exactly what happened the night before. All he said was that she declined him but didn't remember why. Pansy cried for the first time in front of him. At the time, she almost explained soberly, but decided against it when the moment came. It was a good thing she did. Otherwise this whole ordeal would be even more awkward.

Pansy grabbed the last dress and went back to the room. She realized quickly that this dress had buttons all the way up the back to her neck line. And she knew she wouldn't be able to do this herself.

Quietly, she opened the door to the women sitting around outside of it.

"Well come on, show us!" Her mother said as she put down her glass of water.

"I need help with this one," she finally mustered quietly.

"Ooh!" Daphne exclaimed as she rose quickly from the sofa. "I'll help you, Pansy. That's what I'm here for."

Pansy walked away from the door and Daphne entered a moment later with a soft click behind her.

She stood, facing herself in the mirror. And she could see Daphne smiling more than ever.

"Just the buttons, yes?" The blonde asked.

"Yeah," Pansy let out quietly.

"This is so exciting," Daphne said as Pansy felt the girls nimble fingers lightly press on her lower back.

"It is," Pansy lied.

Daphne smiled. "I'm really happy for you."

Pansy felt the last button press against her neck and she turned around. "Thanks," she said but didn't smile.

Luckily Daphne had been too distracted by the dress to see Pansy's face. At the sight, Daphne beamed with happiness while looking up and down Pansy's body, admiring the dress on her.

"I love this one. I think this is it. How do you like it?"

"More than the last, for sure."

Daphne laughed. "Me, too. I think this fits your personality a bit more."

"Oh yeah?" Pansy smiled genuinely. "How so?"

Daphne smirked. "It's _sharp._ "

Pansy chuckled lightly as she turned back to the mirror. The dress had cut off shoulders, and a sharp bust to hold her breasts. The coverage on the top of them was woven with tiny white roses in a pattern that made it semi see-through, but more concealed than not. It was inviting, and most importantly she didn't hate it.

"Let's go show everyone," Daphne said as she grabbed her hand.

Pansy was led out of the room once again and the outpouring of support gushed loudly.

"Absolutely stunning, darling," her mother said while feeling the material.

"Yes, I think this is the one," she said, hoping to deter them from comparing the dresses.

Mrs. Greengrass and Mrs. Parkinson chatted lightly about any additional changes they should have them make and within moments came to an agreement.

"Keep the ticket, dear. We're going to let the girls at the front know this is the one you want," her mother said.

Daphne followed her own mother and Mrs. Parkinson out the door to the main shopping area of the store.

She let out a very long held breath and ran a hand through her hair nervously.

"Got cold feet already?"

Pansy swiveled her head around.

Astoria was lounging against the sofa on the side of the room with a perplexed look.

Pansy had clearly forgotten she was there. She didn't know what to say. What could she say? At this point she had pretended to be at least content with her marriage, this could go poorly.

After no answer came from her, Astoria stood and walked to her. She smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, I'll undo your buttons for you," she said with a glint of something hidden in her eyes.

Pansy breathed nervously, but no less allowed the two of them to enter the dressing room.

Astoria shut the door louder than her sister had, and within a second, Pansy was pulled back by the girl hard as the younger Greengrass took hold of her buttons.

Pansy let out a small cry from the surprise and looked at the reflection of the girl in the mirror as she straighted herself up. She wore a neutral face, and began to unbutton from the top.

Silence elasped them for a moment before Astoria's frown deepened in the mirror.

"It's no surprise to me that you still don't want to do this," she said quietly.

Pansy swallowed.

Astoria finished with the last button near her tail bone and looked up to meet Pansy's eyes in the mirror in front of them.

Pansy held her breath tightly as the piercing blue eyes of her best friend's sister were careful and unnerving.

Finally, Pansy found enough courage to rebuttal. She had to say something.

"Of course I do," she said, her voice slightly wavering.

"Bollocks, Pansy, don't lie. I'm not a moron," Astoria replied immediately.

"I don't–"

Suddenly, Pansy was twisted around with force to face the girl behind her.

"I was there that night, Pansy. In the common room," Astoria said with a angry gaze.

Pansy felt the color drain from her face and her stomach curled into a deep knot. This couldn't be happening. There was no way. Nobody had been there at that time. It was late and everyone had gone to bed.

"Nobody was. . ." Pansy started but stopped when the girl began to smile.

"I had detention that evening with Professor Snape until midnight. I walked through the portrait and I saw you two arguing on the couch about going to Malfoy's room."

Pansy shook her head quickly and she took a deep breath, losing her words. "No. Nobody was. . . I swear."

"I _was,_ Pansy," she said adamantly. "You were drunk, too, remember?"

Pansy's hands began to shake as she moved a piece of hair that had fallen into her face when Astoria had turned her around. The younger Greengrass continued to stare at her with what Pansy could only assume was jealousy and annoyance.

It was true she was also very drunk, and truthfully the idea that someone walked in on them wasn't _that_ crazy. It was a bloody common room of all places that weren't private. Still, she had to try to dismiss it.

"Exactly. I was drunk. And you don't even know what you saw," Pansy said angrily as she crossed her arms. Her temper began to rise steadily.

"It's not just what I saw. I _heard_ you, Pansy." Astoria's voice climbed higher.

Pansy exhaled heavily at this realization. Out of everything that had happened that night, she knew clear as day what she had told Draco. The sentence hung in the back of her head for the last two years as a means to keep her paranoid and distant. This had to be one of her nightmares. But it wasn't.

Astoria took a step towards her and pointed her finger. "I know what you said. I know that you're–"

"STOP," Pansy yelled as she shoved Astoria back towards the door. She stumbled slightly as Pansy said, "You don't know anything, Greengrass!"

Pansy's breath had become uneven and she felt panic rising in her chest. Within seconds, Astoria took a step back and grabbed Pansy's arms tightly and pulled her forcefully to her.

Pansy could feel the hot breath hit her face when Astoria whispered angrily, "You can't hide this forever."

Pansy pulled herself out of her tight grip, and took a step back.

"I'm not hiding anything! I–I told you, I was _drunk!_ " she stammered. "I had too much, I didn't know what I was saying, I wasn't thinking strai–"

"Straight?" Astoria interrupted chuckling.

Pansy swallowed hard and pure rage began to bubble in her chest.

"Because you're not." She took a step closer to Pansy again with a daring grin.

Pansy could feel her eyes begin to water, but she successfully pushed the tears back down for now. Showing any sign of weakness was absolutely off the table.

"Fuck you, Greengrass," she spat towards her.

Astoria's grin disappeared and was replaced with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. She was silent.

"It's not like anyone's going to believe you," Pansy said a second later with more defiance.

"I don't care if anyone believes me!" Astoria raised her voice. "All I care about is how it's not fair to Draco."

Pansy rolled her eyes. That was true, she knew and she did feel bad about forcing Draco into a loveless marriage just as much as she did. However, it was probably _more_ unfair to him because unlike her, he was actually capable of those feelings and could develop them over time.

"There are plenty of arranged marriages that people don't want to be in," Pansy argued. "Why are you so concerned for Draco's?"

Astoria was silent.

Pansy smirked. She had an idea why, but she wanted Astoria to say it.

Astoria growled. "It's none of your fucking business, Parkinson."

Pansy laughed. "That's funny coming from _you!_ " she said angrily, her laughter falling instantly.

Astoria crossed her arms.

Pansy crossed the floor once again to meet the girl. "I told you over a month ago at the party that I don't want this. All I'm doing now is playing a part."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Pansy, I'll find a way to expose you. You don't deserve him."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Oh, and create a fool of Draco? I can see now how well that will go over." she said with a dangerous smile.

Astoria was silent again.

"That's what I thought," Pansy said while taking a step back. "Now get the fuck out of my dressing room."

Astoria leaned against the door, staring at her and blocking the exit.

Pansy tore one arm out of the sleeve in her dress, which made the bust loosen and begin to sag. Quickly, she sneered. "Unless you want to watch."

Astoria let out a disgusted huff and turned around rapidly to exit. She slammed the door and Pansy could hear her footsteps leave the room all the women has been lounging in.

She took a shaky set of breaths before collapsing on the red sofa in the corner. Tears spilled instantly from her eyes at an increasingly burning pace. She gripped the edge of the seat hard until her knuckles turned white through her blurry eyes.

 _Fuck,_ she thought. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

She placed a hand to her temple and allowed a few more sobs to leave her before she wiped her eyes and removed the rest of the dress.

It didn't take long to put on her previous clothes. She slipped on her shoes and took a look at her face in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and beyond puffy. Even magic may not be enough to fix this.

Suddenly, her mother's voice called behind the door. "Darling, are you almost done? Astoria said you were having some issues."

Pansy glared angrily in the mirror. She softened her tone when she replied, "I'm almost done."

"Whatever it is, honey, we can fix it," her mother said with a concerned voice.

Pansy smiled ruefully and took one last look at herself in the mirror. She cast a quick spell which set a decent illusion charm to cover the majority of her blotchy face.

She opened the door and stepped out of the dressing room.

Pansy smiled lightly. "It's nothing, Mum. I promise."

Her mother gave her a disbelieving glance.

Pansy shifted on her feet and gave her best excuse, because her mother wasn't going to take nothing as an answer.

"The buttons. . . are. . . annoying to do. It takes too long."

Her mother quirked an eye. "Well that's no issue, darling. You won't even notice when we're getting ready that morning," she said with a smile.

Pansy looked away while crossing her arms. "Can we go now?"

"Yes," her mother said as she turned towards the doorway to the front of the store. "We have to meet Draco and Narcissa for lunch soon."

Pansy nodded and followed her mother through the door. It was difficult, but she attempted to keep herself level headed when she saw Astoria again.

She smiled towards her and Pansy managed to return the gesture, but her eyes remained cold and calculated.

"Alright, ladies. It's been a pleasure. We'll see you two off now," Mrs. Greengrass said.

The women said their good-byes and Daphne hugged Pansy just as tight as she had when they arrived. And then the two Parkinsons walked swiftly out the door into the bustling street.

# -

The restaurant that they were meeting the Malfoy's at was incredibly irritating.

The decor was dark and the overall atmosphere was dreary. Pansy liked darker shades in general, but this place reminded her of the more prestigious shops in Knockturn Alley.

The only difference was that she didn't feel like she may be snatched by someone at any moment. The staff was polite and kind, which mostly consisted of elves, and the food here had always been known as a delicacy.

Overall, Pansy would rather skip the whole luncheon. Especially after her disastrous morning with Astoria, but she knew that wasn't going to happen.

After her mother had confirmed their reservation, the women were seated at a table in its own room, an older elf served them wine and Pansy waited silently as her mother talked hastily to the wait staff about what they were being served as their course today.

And of course, on time as usual, both Madam Malfoy and Draco were escorted to their table by a man who wore a preserved smile.

Pansy stood and Draco placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. He had been doing that now the last few times they met in front of his parents or hers. The feeling his lips left burned every single time, and she wasn't getting used to it. At least she could expect it.

Pansy's mother and Narcissa greeted each other and the women sat opposite of Draco and Pansy. Within a few minutes and a loud pop, the first course was served. A thick soup that Pansy would have enjoyed, had the incident earlier that morning not killed her appetite.

"How's work at the Ministry been?" Draco asked as he picked up his spoon.

Pansy glanced over to him. "As expected."

Draco raised his eyebrows and continued to eat his soup. After a few minutes he said, "my father and I will be making frequent trips to the Ministry."

Pansy tightened the grip on her silverware. The idea of Draco casually roaming around the only safe place she had did not sit well with her.

"Why?"

Draco cleared his throat. "He says it's business. I don't know anything else."

Pansy didn't believe him. Surely Lucius had to have said something. It was probably something stupid or petty against the Minister. Oh well, their presence would be noticed.

"I was thinking we could have lunch on your break when I'm there," he said.

Pansy inhaled deeply. "Sure."

Draco opened his mouth when his mother turned to Pansy from across the table.

"Oh, that will be wonderful for you two," she said delightfully.

Mrs Parkinson smiled lightly and Pansy mimicked the gesture.

"I'm sure you will enjoy having him around since you pair are always owling one another," Narcissa said with a laugh.

Pansy's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The only owls she received were official ones from the House of Malfoy, or something in regards to their wedding plans through the Greengrasses. They hadn't sent personal letters to one another in years.

Mrs. Parkinson lifted an eyebrow. "You must be hiding the letters from me, Pansy," she said playfully. "There's no need to. You'll be wed soon!"

Pansy let out a strangled giggle to ease the tension. Whoever Draco was owling, it wasn't her, and now she was curious.

Their mother's continued their previous conversation quickly and Pansy sent Draco a cautious sideways glance.

He appeared to avoid her gaze with everything he could muster until Pansy finally broke the contact when a popping sound signaled the next course.

He immediately went for his meat and Pansy didn't dare ask any questions until they could talk alone. Regardless if they were getting married outside of her preference, she'd at least like to know who he was talking to so much.

After dessert was served, and the final cup of tea had left itself on the plate for the elves to clean, the four adults moved to a nearby sitting room where Draco's mum and Pansy's decided to encourage the pair to go for a walk outside through the restaurant's garden.

Draco held is hand and Pansy took it with no conflicts and he led the two of them through the sliding door to the nearby courtyard. Once they were out of sight, and after several aisles of roses, peonies, and other assorted flowers, Pansy dropped his hand and cut him off by turning in front of him with a finger on his chest.

Draco stared at her for several moments before Pansy asked bluntly, "Who've you been owling?"

The tall boy exhaled heavily. "Just a friend."

"A 'friend.' Sure," Pansy said while dropping her hand to cross her arms in front of her chest.

Draco rolled his eyes and stuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm not daft, Draco!" Pansy said loudly.

He hushed her and pulled her aside to a dead end within the garden's maze. Even if she was angry, he was right about making this more private.

"Pansy. . ." he started.

"Oh, come on, Draco. You except me to believe you've been owling one of your mates?"

Draco wiped a hand over his face.

"Just tell me," she said more calmly.

"Astoria and I have been in frequent contact," he said after a moment of silence.

"Astoria!?" Pansy yelped. It wasn't that unbelievable, but it certainly was irritating after this morning.

Draco placed his hands onto her shoulders. "I told you, we're just friends."

"Yeah, but _her_!?" Pansy said aghast.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "She's a good friend. And why do you care? You don't even want to get married to me. I'm surprised to see you're jealous."

Pansy scoffed with a laugh. "I'm not jealous, Draco."

"Could've fooled me," he said quickly with a glare.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "And when did this 'budding friendship' start?" she asked, chuckling lightly, mostly with disbelief.

Draco sighed. "A few party's ago. One of the ones you didn't come to. We talked a lot that night and . . . she's nice."

Pansy crossed her arms and turned around. This couldn't be happening. As much as she despised marrying Draco, this could be just as inherently detrimental if she had canceled the wedding. It was bad enough she wouldn't be a _good_ wife deep down secretly, but now she would be a _bad_ wife publicly if he cheated on her.

She turned back around as she shook her head back and forth, trying to find some light in this situation. It made a lot more sense now why Astoria had been so aggravated with her earlier, regardless if it was her business or not. Draco was bringing her into it.

"Draco, this is . . ."

"I know," he said somberly.

Pansy blew all the air from her lungs. A moment passed before she asked carefully, "has she said anything to you?"

"About what?"

"About me . . ."

"Like what?" Draco quirked an eye.

"Nothing. I just . . . I'm just curious."

Draco was silent for a long moment before he said quietly, "she told me why she's not good enough to be with me."

"What?"

He cleared his throat. "Why the Greengrass women are hard to marry."

Pansy furrowed her eyebrows. "Why? They're gorgeous. You'd think they'd be married before the graduated Hogwarts."

Draco ran a hand through his hair before he said, "they're cursed, Pansy."

Pansy didn't reply. Instead, a million different ideas ran through her head. She didn't have to ask, because Draco looked as though he was going to explain.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "An ancestor of the Greengrasses was cursed with blood malediction."

Pansy stared at him hard, slightly confused.

"It can only show up in females. And it could resurface at any time in their family. It's risky to marry a Greengrass woman because they may fall to the curse," Draco said with a heavy heart.

Pansy groaned. It made sense now why Daphne nor Astoria weren't already betrothed like she was. She might be a potential disgrace to her family, but at least she didn't have a cursed ancestor.

"Draco, I'm sorry," she said honestly. "But there's nothing you can do about it. Not the curse, not the marriage. Nothing."

Draco looked down at his feet. "I know," he said in a low voice.

Pansy sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes careful not to disturb her makeup. Today had been excruciatingly tiring and she didn't know how many more charms she could put on herself.

The platinum haired boy place a hand on Pansy's shoulder and she looked up to meet his gaze.

"Are you angry?" he asked gently.

Pansy felt a heaviness hang in her chest. She was upset, irritated, angry, sad, depressed, and filled with anxiety to the brim.

"I'm a lot of things, Draco. Let's just leave it at that."

Pansy moved aside him and his hand fell to his thigh. She stepped back onto the main path and continued to walk. Draco joined her a moment later.

The air felt thick and even though the sun was shining on this rare day, she felt cold and desolate. It was exhausting having to keep up with it all. With all of the new information that had been laid on her, _threatened_ to her, she was truly at a loss on what to do.

There was no way out of this. She couldn't fake being with Draco when she was with him, which wouldn't make him happy; and if she did fake it, it wouldn't make her happy. Astoria knew her deepest, darkest secret that she could potentially use against her. It didn't matter if she had evidence of not, Pansy would crack fairly quickly if it got out. Either from pure mania or absolute stress. Or both.

Draco placed his arm around her waist as they rounded the garden and we're greeted by their mother's once again. She didn't shy away even though she wanted to peel him off of her and quickly drown herself in the fountain nearby.

"How was your walk?" Mrs. Parkinson asked.

Pansy smiled. "It was great, wasn't it, Draco?"

Draco eyed her carefully before nodding his head.

"Wonderful," Narcissa said. "Come now, Draco, we have to meet your father early today."

Draco gave one last long look to Pansy before the pair left their private room of the restaurant.

He looked guilty, albeit a bit angry, and probably was just as distraught as she was. That wasn't her intention, but she felt like it was her fault. If she had just been able to love him, they wouldn't be having any of these problems.

Pansy rubbed the back of her neck with a deep sigh.

"Are you alright, darling?" her mother asked as the two made their way out of the restaurant.

Pansy nodded. "It's been a long day."

# \--

The last few weeks at the Ministry had probably been the easiest for Hermione. The work was going by faster, which allowed her to do more during her shifts, and Parkinson's occasional company wasn't as distracting or as disliked as it had been. In fact, it had been almost casual.

"I bet you're tired of seeing my face three times a week now," Parkinson said to her with a smirk as Hermione placed her last few pages into a cabinet.

Hermione rolled her eyes with a smile. "Now why do you say that?"

Parkinson laughed. "Well, now that they've got us working together Monday and Wednesday, I'd say I'm nearly sick of you. And that doesn't even include Friday."

Hermione curved her mouth into a smirk. She could tell now how the girl joked around.

"Well, I guess I could say I'm also sick of you, too," she replied.

Parkinson laughed. "Good. You should be," she said with a wink.

Hermione placed the last paper into the drawer as Parkinson leaned her back up against the cabinets next to her.

"Tell me, Granger. Doesn't this work ever bore you?" she asked.

Hermione shut the drawer. "Not really, no," she said.

Parkinson let out a chuckle. "How very Hermione Granger of you."

Hermione squinted her eyes with a smile. This Pansy Parkinson was one that was growing on her in the strangest of forms.

"Well, I suppose it's a good time for a lunch break," Hermione said. "We've both got two more stacks to do today."

Parkinson groaned.

Hermione shrugged. "It's got to be better than being home, isn't it?"

The girl was silent for a long moment and Hermione became worried she was about to get yelled at, but Parkinson's smile returned to her face.

"You're right, Granger."

Hermione returned the gesture, and a silence fell upon them.

"What are you doing for lunch today?" The Slytherin girl asked with interest.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I'll be meeting Harry and Ron in the café today."

Parkinson raised her eyebrows. "All three of you?"

Hermione squinted her eyes. "Yes, why?"

Parkinson smirked. "You're begging for the front cover of the Daily Prophet aren't you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, now. Nobody is _that_ interested. Who would even read that? What would it say?"

Parkinson laughed. "You never know," she said as she pushed off the cabinets. "I'm also meeting someone at the café today. We can walk together."

Hermione held her breath. Parkinson was asking to walk with her to the café? Never in a lifetime of possibilities would she have expected this. And based on how the girl in front of her seemed to recoil back into herself ever so slightly showed Hermione she felt the same.

"That is . . . if you want to," she said while looking down.

Hermione nodded her head carefully. "Sure."

Parkinson curved her lip into a short smile and began to walk towards the exit. Hermione followed next to her and the two made their way into the bustling hall in the Records Room.

They received a few bizarre stares which made Hermione extremely hyper aware of everyone in the room.

Parkinson narrowed her eyes and looked around when they exited into the deserted hall past the main area.

"Do you normally get that many people staring at you?" she asked a little concerned.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "No, not really."

"Hmm," Pansy hummed.

The pair walked quietly down the long hallway that led to the Atrium. Only a few witches and wizards passed the two of them.

"So, who are you meeting for lunch?" Hermione asked, perking the conversation back up.

"My friend Tracey," Parkinson said. "From school. Do you remember her?"

Hermione scoffed. "How could I forget? You two and Greengrass hardly left me alone," she said with unintended bitterness.

Parkinson stopped walking, and Hermione did too a few steps ahead. She turned back to her, wondering if maybe she had accidentally broken whatever fragile partnership they'd created the last few weeks.

"You're right," Parkinson said with a sincere look. "I'm sorry, truthfully."

Hermione blinked a few times. She didn't know what to say, but she had to say something. She couldn't just–

"You don't have to say anything, Hermione," Parkinson interrupted with a hand held in defense. "It's fine if you don't accept the apology, but I felt I needed to say it if we're gonna continue being polite to one another."

Hermione was dumbstruck. Not only had her former bully apologized, she also called her by her first name and insisted they remained polite.

Hermione remained silent, and her breath and words were caught tightly in a spider-like web in her throat.

Parkinson smiled as she walked by her, but she still didn't move. After the girl had gained several steps ahead of her, she turned around.

"Granger, are you all right? The café is this way, remember?"

Hermione's face broke into a smile and with a few strides she caught up to Parkinson and the two continued to walk until they emptied out into the Atrium. They made their way to the front of the café that was busy with activity during the lunch hour.

"I don't see Harry or Ron," Hermione said nervously.

"And I don't see Tracey," Parkinson added, craning her neck around.

Suddenly, a man leapt in front of them quickly and grasped Hermione's shoulder with force.

Hermione shrugged him off with an angry glare before she realized it was Ron who looked like he was out of breath.

"Hermione," he said while catching some air.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Hermione asked with deep concern.

"Harry and I've got to go help with a traffic problem. Apparently some blokes got their brooms jinxed by one of their mates and it's caused a small crash in a muggle neighborhood. They've asked us to go clean it up, along with some people from Magical Transportation."

Hermione saw Parkinson sigh, but she kept her attention on Ron.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I just ran down here to tell you we won't be joining you for lunch," he said.

Hermione nodded with Ron shifted his gaze to Parkinson.

"What're you doing here, Parkinson?" he asked defensively.

"I was walking with Granger to the café because I was supposed to meet my friend from Transportation here today, but she's probably not coming now."

Ron narrowed his eyes at her, and turned back to Hermione. "Just be careful. We'll see you later," he said quickly and then he dashed away as fast as he had come.

"Your boyfriend's got some nerve asking me my business," the girl said with some foul attitude.

Hermione shook her head. "Nevermind him. He's just concerned."

Parkinson exhaled heavily.

"Oh, and he's not my boyfriend."

"Huh?"

Hermione looked at the girl in front of her who wore a confused look as she glanced to where Ron had just left to.

"Ron and I broke up months ago," Hermione said. "I should have corrected you when we first started here but you were such an arse I found it to be unimportant at the time."

Parkinson let out a laugh. "An arse?"

Hermione blushed. She hadn't meant it exactly like that. "Well, I mean . . ."

"It's okay, Granger," she said with a smile. "I'm a lot to take in sometimes."

Hermione smiled. "That's very true."

Parkinson rolled her eyes.

"Honestly I'm surprised you didn't already know," she said.

"Why?"

"I don't know how many times you've mentioned my appearance in a magazine, yet you apparently don't keep up to date on them."

Parkinson covered her face with a hand, seemingly embarrassed. "No, I don't . . .you've caught me."

Hermione nodded. "It's okay, I don't either. But Ron and my breakup was covered for a few weeks. Lots of trash about how we'd get back together, or that I'd actually fancied Harry all along."

"Well when you say that, maybe I should've read up on it," Parkinson said with a smirk.

Hermione scoffed playfully and smacked the back of the girl's hand that rested on her elbow. "Oh, stop it."

The dark haired girl turned her head and her mouth twisted into a grin, but she said nothing.

Hermione sighed, she was now without a lunch partner.

Parkinson eyed her carefully. She relaxed her arms and dug her hands into her slacks pockets.

"Well, then I guess it's just us for lunch," she said.

Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks. She hadn't intended to have lunch with the girl, but how could she say no when they didn't have anyone else and were already there. Truthfully, she didn't want to say no. They'd had such a good day so far, it only seemed right that they chatted over some food.

She smiled. "Why not?"

# -

The pouridge she had chosen for her meal was tasty and the consistency was perfect. It was also nice to note that the temperature charm on it kept it warm, but not too hot.

"So, Granger, what did you do this past weekend?" Parkinson asked as she took bite of her sandwich.

Hermione thought carefully. She had visited the Burrow again, and spent the day shopping with Ginny. Besides that, she read and cleaned her home. It really wasn't very exciting.

"I spent some time with friends and we did a few things. What about you?"

The girl stiffened slightly and Hermione became more curious as to what she had to say.

"We . . . shopped for my wedding dress, and I had lunch with Draco," she said without much emotion.

Hermione nodded her head. "Sounds eventful."

Parkinson chuckled sadly. "You've no idea."

Hermione was silent. She knew the girl wasn't looking forward to marrying Draco at all. Surely the closer the date got, the worse it was.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Parkinson narrowed her eyes. "For what?"

Hermione placed her spoon down on her napkin. "You don't want to marry him, and I'm sorry you're being forced to."

They were both silent for a long moment until Parkinson placed a hand under her chin, perplexed.

"No one's ever told me that," she said finally.

Hermione looked up from her bowl. "What do you mean?"

"No one's ever taken what I've said as certain," she nearly whispered, "all my friends congratulate me, and most tell me they're jealous. My family insists I'll learn to love him and our marriage. Nobody seems to really care what I think."

"Do you believe what your parents say?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Parkinson exhaled. "No, not really."

Hermione nodded. Tolerating a marriage and being married through love were completely opposite things. For all she knew, Parkinson would be miserable for the rest of her life.

"Isn't there a way to get out of it?" Hermione wondered.

Parkinson laughed. "I could call it off, but it would look terribly bad on my parents. Excommunicated is a nice way of saying it."

Hermione stirred her soup. "So? They're the ones making you do it in the first place."

"It's not that simple," she replied.

"Why not?"

Parkinson huffed. "Pure-blood culture is all about tradition. A family arranges for a woman to marry into another family to boost both their status and wealth. If I called it off, or they found out I'm . . ."

Hermione furrowed her brows when Parkinson halted her sentence with a hitched breath.

"You're?"

Parkinson shook her head swiftly. "Nothing. But regardless, if I called it off, it would look bad."

"What if Draco calls it off?" Hermione asked, still curious as to what she was going to say previously. The unfinished senfence hanging in her head. Parkinson is . . .?

"He won't. He hasn't the bollocks to do so." Parkinson rolled her eyes.

Hermione laughed quietly.

Parkinson sent a piecing glare to Hermione, probably for laughing at the situation, but she couldn't help but giggle. And soon, her laughter caught to the girl too.

Hermione smiled. "Pansy," she started. This warranted a curious gaze from her work partner. "If I've learned anything at all, I know you always have options. They might not be good ones, but they're always there."

Parkinson was silent for a long moment before she smiled softly. "I suppose that's true," she said.

Hermione nodded. "I hope you make the right ones."

At that moment, she was certain she had seen a blush cross the girls cheeks, and Hermione could feel a familiar tightening in her chest. One she had felt before throughout school. With Ron . . . with Viktor . . .and within a moments notice, she realized there was definitely more to Pansy Parkinson than she had ever realized. More to the pretty girl who bullied her in school, and more to her nonchalant work partner she had now that was warming up to her, just as she was.

She swallowed hard, and finished her soup with a different thought in mind, and a different feeling in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I really like this chapter. Longer than the rest. More to come soon :)


	6. Closed Doors Can Swing Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any mistakes! enjoy!

Hermione sunk deeply into her arm chair that was nestled into a corner of her living room. She enjoyed the free time spent reading her favorite books from her nearby bookshelf. It was also nice to add that one of her windows was in front of the chair and on this particular day, it happened to be bright and warm. Nothing could ruin this moment, alone in her house, doing one of her favorite past times.

Except one thing.

Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione trained her eyes carefully on the page in front of her. She had read it nearly five times and hadn't retained any of the information, which wasn't something she was used to.

 _Just focus,_ she thought gently to ease her mind. _You don't have to think about Pansy at all._

_Pansy_

That alone created a deep crevice in her brain. She was referring to the girl by her first name now in her head and in conversation with her on a daily basis at work.

That wasn't the problem though.

The issue was the growing fascination she had with her that at this point she knew was more than a new friendship. Seeing her standing in the aisle with a smooth smile was enough now to have her cheeks buzzing with a blush. It wasn't normal, and she certainly didn't expect to feel this way about a woman. Especially this woman. She was beautiful, clearly, but the personality change mixed with her physical appearance entrapped her in a new wave of infatuation that was difficult for even Hermione to understand.

She set down the book on a small table next to her.

"For crying out loud," she mumbled to herself.

Crookshanks, who was sitting on a stack of papers, made a loud, deep meow that shook her from her own disgruntled thoughts.

A heavy sigh crossed her lips.

"Come here," she said gently to the large half-kneazle who instantly hopped onto her lap.

Soft purrs ran through his body back and forth as Hermione caressed his thick fur. It was soothing, and she felt as though he knew she was stressed about something.

Hopefully it was a minor crush that would flee here after a few more interactions with Parkinson. Surely it couldn't last longer than that, right?

# -

Hermione strolled through the halls quietly with her work partner who was chattier than normal that day.

It was odd seeing Pansy express an interest in anything that wasn't something negative. Then again, there were many new surprising things about the girl Hermione had learned recently: She actually liked Quidditch (the professional kind,) she preferred charms over potions (which was uncanny for a Slytherin,) and most importantly she seemed to have in-depth interest in Magical History.

"It's said Morgana's great potion abilities are what helped her in her battles against Arthur," Pansy said excitedly.

Hermione smiled. "Oh, really? And where did you learn that?"

"My father's library. There's loads of works in there that you can't find hardly anywhere else."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like you need to let me borrow some."

Pansy curled her lips. "You wish, Granger. Even I'm not allowed in there. I wouldn't be able to."

Hermione tilted her head. "Then how did you read them?"

Pansy shoved her hands into her pockets and smiled wildly. "Let's just say I have my ways."

Hermione shook her head incredulously. "Of course you do."

Pansy held her grin and stared at her for a long moment. She felt a heat rise on the back of her neck as her eyes stretched far into her own. She nearly lost her nerve when suddenly the green eyes flitted to the side and her smile fell instantaneously.

Hermione turned her head and followed her gaze.

A tall platinum haired boy and whom could only be his father, were crossing the nearly empty Atrium towards them.

She swallowed.

 _Malfoys,_ she thought nervously.

She glanced back towards Pansy who had stopped walking and was eyeing them carefully. Hermione could sense a nervousness that now emanated from the Slytherin girl. Any sense or humor or joyfulness was depleted.

The men walked with haste towards them. She hadn't seen either of them since the Battle of Hogwarts and she certainly didn't want to now. Just being near them brought harsh memories of their house, and Malfoy's deranged Aunt Bellatrix.

A shiver ran through her spine as the Malfoy's stopped a few meters away from the women.

"Pansy, nice to see you again," Mr. Malfoy said with a twinkle in his eye.

Pansy nodded her head politely. "Mr. Malfoy."

The man nudged his son's shoulder harshly, his smile falling.

Malfoy grunted. "Yes, hello, Pansy."

Hermione fidgeted in her spot. She felt deeply out of place, and very, very small. Not because she thought they were better than her, but because the situation was awkward at the very least.

"And you're accompanied by Ms. Granger, are you now?" Lucius asked with a light chuckle as his eyes shifted towards her from Pansy.

Hermione narrowed her gaze but she could still see Pansy out of the corner of her eye shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"Yes. . ." The girl started weakly, ". . . We're leaving shift now."

A silence crossed over the four adults before Lucius Malfoy asked, "Together?"

Malfoy turned to look at her. His face seemed strained, and his lips pursed with confusion. He looked exactly the same as when she saw him a year ago, except there was more color to his face and it was a little fuller.

A long sigh emitted itself from Lucius Malfoy.

"If you're done work, please come with Draco and me." He looked down to Pansy and then traced his gaze back to Hermione. "I'm sure you won't mind, right, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione creased her brows before she said, "Not at all."

"Brilliant," he said with a light huff. "Come now, Draco."

Lucius set forward at an alarming pace towards the lifts.

Hermione glanced at Pansy who gave her a look that resembled an apology but she couldn't tell. Something else was mixed in it, too.

Within seconds, Malfoy grabbed her hand and shot back a light sneer, but it didn't seem ill intended.

"See you later, Granger," he said.

Hermione swallowed.

Pansy looked away and let herself be led by Malfoy in the direction of his father. And after several moments, she was almost alone in the Atrium.

# \--

"I've come to talk to one of the Minister's speakers for the Department of Mysteries," Mr. Malfoy said over his shoulder to the couple.

Pansy licked her lips. She wasn't sure how she should respond or _if_ she should respond.

Draco's father tossed a hazardous look to his son.

The boy turned to her. "My father's looking for someone in the department to help him with a project he's working on about time travel," Draco said nervously.

"Now, now, Draco. No need to give all the details away," he said with a devious grin as he entered one of the lifts.

Draco and Pansy stepped in with him and the elevator began to travel upwards and forward.

"I wish you luck in finding a proper partner," Pansy finally said.

Mr. Malfoy gave what Pansy assumed he thought was a sincere smile. She swallowed and kept her head lower than normal.

A few moments later, and they were emptied out onto Level 1.

Pansy gazed quietly at the well decorated hallways of the Minister's support offices and his staff. The entire Ministry was very nice, but Level 1 was embellished with all sorts of premium rugs, chairs, and tables that were scattered around.

"Wait here," Mr. Malfoy said to his son.

He walked quickly in the direction of a sideways hall and was gone shortly after. A few witches and wizards passed by and gave them curious gazes and whispers.

"Come on," Draco said as he pulled Pansy over to a more secluded section that had a soft looking lounge. "We'll wait here so nobody asks what we're doing on this floor."

Pansy sat herself gently on the sofa and Draco placed himself next to her. She scooted a little to the edge to put some distance between them. The platinum haired boy eyed her carefully before brushing a hand through his short hair.

She relaxed into the cushions behind her and crossed her arms. All she had wanted to do was go home. Not to mention Draco and his father interrupted her nice conversation with Hermione.

She chuckled to herself, surprised that would ever upset her.

"What's funny?" Draco asked.

Pansy sighed. "Nothing."

Draco nodded once and kept his eyes trained forward. It was several minutes before he said, "I didn't know you worked with Granger."

Pansy raised her brows. She hadn't told him, and she hadn't planned on it. It wasn't his business nor did it seem that important.

"For a while now, yes," she let out after a moment.

"Does she give you trouble?" he asked.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "No, why?"

"I know how she can be. I'm just making sure you're alright," he said as he shifted his position.

"I'm fine, Draco," she replied slightly irritated. It wasn't his job to protect her anyway, at least not in her eyes.

Draco scoffed at her attitude. "Well no kidding, it seems you're getting on well."

"What do you mean?" she asked as she turned to face him next to her.

"I saw you two laughing before you noticed we were coming."

"And?"

". . .and it's weird. You're laughing with Granger instead of at her."

Pansy exhaled and shook her head. "So what?"

"I just don't think it's like you to do that," he said sternly.

Pansy groaned. "Honestly, Draco, you barely know me."

The boy chuckled. "That's rich, Pansy. I doubt that."

Pansy shot him a glare and Draco in return lied back on the sofa. She crossed her arms and turned her head away from him.

They were silent for several minutes.

"Tell me one thing I don't know about you," he said cockily. "I bet I know most."

Pansy swiveled her head back to him. The twisted grin he wore on his face curled with his lips. There were several things Pansy was certain Draco did not know, and only one very important thing she wasn't sure about.

"My grandmother's name," she said with a raised chin, testing him.

"Elizabeth or Pauline?" He smiled after a moment to think.

Pansy grunted. Surely she had mentioned her grandparents multiple times over the years. Both were very wealthy and well established members of the wizarding community.

"How do I take my oatmeal?"

Draco titled his head to the side for a moment and his smile grew once again.

"Oats and strawberries with _milk_ , not water."

Pansy narrowed her eyes at him. He was extraordinarily irritating most of the time and especially when he was correct about things.

Suddenly, she felt a lump grow in her throat. She had been paranoid for so long. This was the perfect opportunity to ask him. It could go either way. He could be completely clueless, or already know. What if he did? What would he say?

Pansy breathed quickly through her nose. There was only one way to find out. It was risky, and maybe it was from the Malfoy's interrupting her and Granger that put her in this sour mood, but she felt obliged to do it.

Pansy exhaled slowly and asked more seriously, "Why don't I want to marry you?"

Draco stared at her. The silence was thick in the air, but not nearly as bad as the dread in her stomach. He showed no emotion, hardly any recognition at the question itself.

After a long moment of silence that nearly gave her a heart attack right in front of him, Draco uttered a confused "You already told me."

She felt dizzy. Her breathing stopped fully. She could feel her heart racing in her throat and throbbing through her chest. This was not happening.

He looked at her with an expression she couldn't gauge. It seemed concerned.

"When. . ." Is all she could whisper.

Draco's dull face twisted into a smirk. "At your parent's party. You basically told me I'm an arse and a prat," he said jokingly.

At the answer, air filled her lungs again and the blood began pumping. Her head that had started to feel light, was beginning to come back to normal.

Anger started to bubble where anxiety once was. The answer didn't give as much relief as she thought it would. Draco didn't know, but Astoria still did. Which was inherently worse considering the damage she could do if she didn't care so much about Draco.

She swallowed hard. "Fine, you know a few things. I'll give you that, but there's no need to question my work partnerships. I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do," she said bitterly, hoping to change the subject so he wouldn't ask the real reason.

Draco leaned forward onto his knees with an unamused smirk.

"If you say so, Pansy. I'm just saying it's a risky move."

Pansy scoffed. "Like anyone cares."

Draco looked behind him in the direction Mr. Malfoy disappeared to. "I can tell my father does. That much tells me you should tread lightly. Don't get too close to her. Not that I expect you to. You hated Granger as much as any of us did in school. Be civil, but not overly friendly."

"You can't tell me what to do," she spat defensively.

Draco moved closer and whispered, "I know, but it's going to be hard to explain to my family why my fiancé is friends with a mud–" He paused momentarily before finishing his sentence. "–a war heroine muggle-born. They'll think you're a blood traitor."

Pansy closed her eyes and bit her lip. Draco was starting to get on her nerves.

 _A blood traitor? Merlin, if they only knew!_ she thought with an internal laugh.

It was true her and Hermione had become closer over the last few weeks. They'd even gone as far as having lunch a few more times together. The company Granger provided was surprisingly welcoming and fun. She was smart, and less of a know-it-all if she wasn't trying to prove you wrong. It was really liberating to be around someone so different from her; someone who was brought up in a way unlike herself.

She didn't consider herself a blood traitor though, but she didn't want to announce that because in truth she didn't care about blood status anymore. Look where it got them in the world. Not very far in comparison to the rest of wizard society.

She breathed evenly, and opened her eyes back to the calloused stare from Draco. She knew he was just trying to protect them, but he also hadn't been exactly the perfect pure-blood these past few weeks either. And that was the weak spot she could find.

"Are you still owling Astoria?" she asked with a careful smile, diverting the conversation.

Draco instinctively licked his lips and averted his eyes quickly. "Well . . ."

"Don't lie to me, Draco."

"She's my friend."

"Alright then," she said with a cheerful tone. "How will I explain to _my_ family that my fiancé is becoming more than friends with another pure-blood?" She ended with a deep frown, using some of his logic against him.

Draco scoffed. "I told you, Pansy, we're–"

"'Just friends,' I know," she said angrily. "Well that's not how others will see it."

Draco shook his head. "I thought you said you aren't jealous."

"I'm not," she replied louder.

"Then why–"

"Because it's going to look bad on me!"

"On _you_?" He exhaled in disbelief. "It will look bad on _both_ of us. Trust me, I know."

"More so on me! You're a man! You'll maybe get a slap on the wrist and everyone will forget about it. I, however, will never be seen the same way again in our community." She balled her hand into fists and glared at him. "I'll be pitied by some and scrutinized for being an unfulfilling wife to others!"

Draco didn't say anything in return.

"And you can tell yourself you're just friends, but I've seen how you two look at each other. Astoria fancies you and if you don't see that then you're blind or just a liar."

The boy pinched the bridge of his nose and hung his head.

Pansy cleared her throat, calmer than she had been. She knew she was being mean, but he had started it to begin with. Sort of.

"Just be careful who knows you're owling each other," she said softer.

Draco looked up to her. She met his gaze and after a moment of looking into his grey eyes, he confirmed, "It's just you. You're the only one that knows."

"Good," she said, actually relieved. "Now do me a favor and leave my own business alone."

Draco sighed. "Fine. Do what you want. But try to at least be subtle."

Pansy turned away from him. It felt wrong to pretend not to be friends with Granger. Work friends, at least. They hadn't actually seen each other outside of the Ministry. Surely nothing would progress past this anyway. There wasn't anything to hide. They were colleagues. . . for now.

"Once we're married I'll be pressured to leave my job here at the Ministry anyway," she said without hiding the sadness or dread in her voice. "You won't have to worry about it."

Pansy played quietly with a piece of her hair that had fallen into her face. The idea of not seeing Hermione in a few months really set into her chest. It was an odd feeling, and surprisingly she it made her sad. 

Draco opened his mouth to reply when the pair heard footsteps approaching. They turned in the direction of the main hall. Within a few seconds, Mr. Malfoy stood before them. He tilted his head.

"This may take a while, Draco. Why don't you escort Pansy to the Floo Network so she can go home," he hesitated for a moment before directing his gaze to Pansy, "I'm sure she's exhausted after working with Ms. Granger."

Pansy eyed him carefully but said nothing.

Draco stood and she took the hand he layed out for her in the air. They shared an uncomfortable glance before walking to the elevator.

Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat. Pansy turned around to find the man looking at them with a hint of a malicious smile.

"As a word of advice from a long time confidant in the Ministry," he said while fixing his coat button, "it's wise not to go making the wrong friends, Pansy."

Pansy used every fiber in her being to make no move, no emotion, and certainly no words that could make the situation worse.

"Right, Draco?" he asked after a long moment of dead air.

Pansy saw Draco swallow lightly before he answered, "Yes, father."

To keep her head and avoid a potential owl being sent to her family, she nodded next to him in agreement.

"Good," Mr. Malfoy said with a smirk. "I'll see you back here soon."

The loud clacks of his dress shoes echoed throughout the hallway. Pansy let out a strangled breath as she let go of Draco's hand and climbed into the lift. With bated breath, she waited for him to join her.

He entered, and the gate closed. The elevator began to lower itself and move backwards with rapid motion.

"I told you," he said with quietly, but his tone told her he was not pleased.

Pansy squinted at him and crossed her arms. She didn't say anything for the rest of the ride in the lift or for the entire walk through the Atrium to the Floos.

The Ministry was waning on witches and wizards still lingering around, which gave them a bit of privacy by the exits.

Draco dug his hands deep into his pockets and Pansy walked towards the small glowing coals. She turned her head back to him a moment before entering.

"My father doesn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. He only means well," Draco said with a little less attitude than he had before.

Pansy inhaled sharply. "Don't they all," she mused annoyingly.

"Pansy . . ." Draco groaned casually.

"Give Astoria my greetings," she replied with no emotion.

Before Draco could respond, she stepped into the flames and with a puff of smoke, a hint of ash, he was gone from her presense.

# -

It was only a few nights before she received an owl from Draco. Her mother had intercepted it, though she hadn't opened it, and presented it to her at dinner.

"Remember I told you that you don't have to hide these from us, darling," her mother said with a knowing smile.

Pansy grimaced slightly while stirring a piece of meat into her gravy.

"It's about time you start acting like you're about to be married," her father chimed in while placing his newspaper next to him. "I've had numerous friends of ours asking why you never come to the parties. You should accompany Draco as often as you can."

Pansy sighed quietly, keeping her gaze down.

"Sometimes there's a lot to do at the Ministry and–"

"Relax, Pansy. You won't even be there long enough to obtain a raise. You don't need to impress anyone," her father interrupted her, his tone demeaning.

She stayed silent, and her mother's encouraging smile kept her from lashing out.

"Tell Draco we'd love to see him again," she said as she placed a hand over Pansy's forearm. "Invite him over any time."

Pansy smiled at her mother. She was always the nicer and more compassionate parent.

"Yes, I do need to chat with him and his Lucius soon," Mr. Parkinson said slightly annoyed.

"I'll arrange for him to visit next weekend," Pansy said, trying to get her parents off of her back.

"Oh, wonderful!" Her mother beamed. "You might also invite Daphne and some of your other friends for the date. I'm sure you'd enjoy spending time with everyone, and it would allow you more public time with Draco, too."

Pansy thought about this. Everything her mother offered for an idea seemed equally horrible as it did draining. Entertaining Draco was bad enough, adding her friends into the mix could be worse.

"I think that's a fine idea actually," her father said with a rare smile. "Invite multiple people, Pansy."

Pansy sunk into the back of her chair. This went almost as poorly as if could have gone. She nodded quietly and ate the rest of her food.

The elves cleared the table and she said good-night go her parents after promising to make the small list of guests.

And unfortunately she wouldn't be able to invite Daphne without Astoria. She wrote a few notes and attached them to her owl. He set off quickly in the evening and by night time, she received confirmation from everyone, including Tracey whom she decided to add at the last moment. She enjoyed her company, and it was likely they'd be able to talk about work and avoid any dull conversation about anything else.

She also did a favor for Draco and invited their long time friends Blaise Zabini and Theodore Knott. Pansy was upset with him at the moment, but she didn't want to torture him with nothing but four girls to chat with all evening. Even she wasn't looking forward to that.

Draco replied the quickest, clearly elated that she had responded to his previous owl which was as vague of an apology as one could conjure.

 _I'll be more than happy to be your escort to your private party._ he had said in his owl.

Pansy laughed. As if he or she had a choice. Hopefully she would be able to keep his attention from Astoria for as long as possible. At least to create a good front for a while.

# \--

The burrow was quiet on this night. Dinner had been cleaned for for a while, and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley had turned in for bed shortly after dessert.

Hermione sat curled up in a great, big orange armchair in the corner of the Weasley's living room.

"So tell us, 'Mione, work still treating you well?" Harry asked while sipping a wizards brew.

Hermione smiled. "Yes, pleasantly as possible."

"Even with Parkinson?" Ron asked while laying across the couch.

Hermione laughed. "Surprisingly so. We haven't had any issues," she said as she felt her chest tighten.

Harry nodded his head and Ginny set her drink down in front of her.

"Well that's good then," she said. "Can't imagine being around a hot headed Slytherin is a good thing."

"She's surprisingly pretty mellow," Hermione said perplexed.

"Has Malfoy made an appearance?" Harry looked at her with a deep concern in his eye.

Hermione scrunched her face at the memory.

"Unfortunately. Him and Lucius Malfoy came by last week when we were leaving work."

"We?" Ron asked.

"Me and . . . Pansy," Hermione said awkwardly, "uhm. . . that's when they showed up."

" _Pansy_ ," the red headed girl giggled.

 _There it was,_ Hermione thought apprehensively.

"On a first name basis are we now, Hermione?" she said while wiggling her eyebrows.

Hermione let out a held breath as her cheeks headed uncontrollably. Luckily they all had had a bit to drink and could easily be seen as that.

She took another drink of her own brew and smiled, playing off her embarrassment.

"We're coworkers. We're polite to each other now. I work with her a lot."

"I still think it's weird," Ginny laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked towards Ron who had fallen fast asleep. Probably a good thing.

Ginny followed her gaze and let out a loud yawn shortly after.

"I think my brother's got the right idea," she said.

Hermione stood and stretched as Harry gently woke Ron to take him up the stairs. He mumbled a tired good-night to her and Ginny flicked their mugs away with her wand. A large splash was heard and Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione for a hug.

"Hey," she mumbled into her hair.

Hermione pulled back and she quirked an eye.

"I forgot to tell you. We've got a game this next weekend. I was going to invite you, Harry, and Ron but the boy'sve got mandatory training," she groaned.

Hermione retrieved her jacket from the cost hanger as Ginny continued.

"Anyway, I still want you to come, but obviously you don't want to sit alone so I invited Luna, too."

"Okay, sure. I've got nothing going on."

"Brilliant!" Ginny beamed. "Oh, and there's an extra ticket, too. So feel free to invite another friend."

"Oh," Hermione said surprised.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to, but go ahead if you want."

"Yeah, I just might," Hermione said a little disorganized with her thoughts.

"Wonderful," she replied with a stretch, "well, I better get up there. Harry's probably fast asleep."

Hermione smiled and the two parted ways at the Wesley's front door.

She stood outside their porch for a long moment thinking critically about whether or not she should do the first thing that popped into her head.

 _She does like Quidditch,_ she thought nervously. _The worst she can say is no._

Hermione walked a few steps forward before stopping again.

_Her saying no would be the worst, though._

She let out a groan.

 _It's nothing. Relax. Just ask her at work,_ she thought while sucking in a large breath. _You can't go wrong with being nice._

# -

The sections Hermione had been working on that day were difficult. Being in such a large room that was dedicated solely to the the misuse of different curses had her running back and forth between multiple aisles.

Evidently there were a lot of types of curses, and very eccentric ways in which someone could cast one on another, or an object. More than she could imagine.

She sighed heavily while thumbing through a small portion of her stack. It was very quiet in her room, mostly because she was the only one there.

The tempo of the clock kept her focused, until the door opened and shut suddenly.

She looked up from the parchments in her arms to see the dark haired girl strolling down her aisle.

A smile instinctively crossed her lips, and as she got closer to her, Hermione could see Pansy was wearing one as well.

"Morning, Granger," she said when she stopped in front of her.

"Good morning," she replied while lowering the small stack in her hands to rest across her stomach.

"That's a lot of papers already," Pansy said while looking down.

Hermione stuttered. "Oh, uh, yes. . . there's a lot today."

Pansy's grin grew. "Well good. You know I like work," she said sarcastically.

Hermione laughed. "Sometimes almost as much as me," she winked.

Pansy lowered her gaze towards the floor while still smiling.

Hermione took this brief loss of eye contact to admire her neatly styled hair, and nicely pressed jumper. It looked good on her, like always, but today felt different. Pansy seemed different. Maybe this was a good time to ask. Otherwise the impending question would bother her the rest of their shift, and she wouldn't do it. It was best to get it out now so she could dwell on the answer for the next eight hours, whether good or bad.

When Pansy raised her eyes back to Hermione, the Gryffindor blushed lightly and ran a hand through her hair.

"Pansy, can I ask you something?" Hermione said quickly so she wouldn't back out.

Pansy raised a curious brow. "Sure thing, Hermione. What is it?"

Hermione cleared her throat, and inhaled sharply. "Ginny had an extra ticket to her team's game this Saturday. And I was wondering if you wanted to go?"

Silence came from the girl and Hermione was beginning to wonder if maybe asking her had been the wrong idea. Maybe Pansy only wanted to be friendly at work and not outside of here. The way the Malfoy's had treated her for even being _seen_ with her seemed telling.

"I'm sorry uhm," she started quickly when Pansy gave no response, "you don't have–"

"I'd love to," Pansy interrupted as she stepped forward.

Hermione held her breath. That wasn't the exact answer she expected, but somehow it seemed better; more eager.

"I–I mean, yes, I'd like to," Pansy added swiftly, rubbing the back of her neck.

Hermione felt the anxiousness in her stomach melt away at Parkinson's response. She watched carefully, and was absolutely certain this time that the girl was blushing. Her skin was pale, and her cheeks seemed to burn bright on it.

"That's. . ." Hermione started, a little taken back, "wonderful."

Pansy smiled. "Alright, good," she said quietly.

Hermione was silent. She really didn't know what she could add to this conversation without sounding like an idiot. And that certainly wasn't like her.

Pansy walked a few sections down and placed her hand on the plate. Within seconds, her stacks appeared.

Hermione went back to the papers in her hands, except now she couldn't even concentrate on what they read.

She cursed to herself. _Focus!_

"Hermione?"

The voice grabbed her attention, and she looked down the aisle to see Pansy playing loosely with the corner of her papers.

"Yes?" Hermione asked, nervous and unsure what was going to come out of the girl's mouth.

Pansy looked back up and met her eyes. She smiled brightly, and Hermione felt her heart lunge into her throat. The Slytherin girl peered at her earnestly, and Hermione could feel the delight in her gaze.

 _Oh no,_ she thought as she swallowed. _This really isn't going away._

"I'm happy you asked me," Pansy finally said.

Hermione let a smile find it's way to her lips and she let out an uneven breath before she gathered the simple words to reply.

"Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your previous comments. I was really sick after I posted last chp (better now) and they made me happy to read. Got a late start on this one, too. It sort of stumped me, but I've got the transition in place. :) Ill get to replying as soon as I can. appreciate you all <3


	7. Saturday

Multiple pieces of clothes were sprawled across Pansy's room. A few pants hung over her bathroom door, and jewelry lay disorganized across her vanity.

"What in Merlin's name did I get myself into," she mumbled quietly as she picked a shirt up off of her bed.

The blue blouse shimmered brightly. A slight groan left her lips as she tossed it across the room onto a chair by a large bay window. Shortly after, the bed bounced once as she collapsed across the sheets and rubbed her eyes.

 _What would be a good outfit to wear to a Quidditch game?_ she wondered while placing her arms behind her head.

The match was set to begin today, mid afternoon around 3 p.m. England's Holyhead Harpies were facing against Scotland's finest: The Montrose Magpies.

It was a long shot for the Harpies, Pansy knew. The Magpies were a really good team and rarely lost during the early games of the playoffs. They weren't her favorite team, but she liked the Holyhead Harpies better anyway. Seeing them win would be quite the highlight most people would enjoy.

But if she was being honest, her main highlight was going to the game with Hermione.

She swallowed.

It had taken her incredibly off guard when Hermione had asked her to Weasley's game this weekend. It surprised her so much she hadn't realized she didn't reply until the poor girl looked like she was going to faint from the apprehension.

Pansy gazed at her ceiling and followed the patterns with her eyes.

 _I wonder why Granger was so nervous,_ she thought.

It didn't fit her personality; being anxious or scared. Those traits fit Longbottom better, and Hermione wasn't anything like him. Well, besides being a Gryffindor.

A sigh crossed her lips. _Maybe she thought I would say no,_ she contemplated.

She felt a light blush heat her cheeks. There was no way she would have said no, she was certain. For whatever reason, Pansy had started gravitating towards the girl at work and during their breaks. It got to the point where she felt the absence of her when she went home, or when she had time to herself on the weekends.

It was almost like an ache that she needed more of. And that didn't sit right with her. Not because she didn't like her. Granger was her work friend. But because she knew like most good things, their time together would come to an end, and it was absolute that parting ways would successfully bring her bouts of pain.

Pansy let out a strangled breath and quickly sat up on her bed. There was no point in dwelling on the inevitable. It was time to enjoy the day they had together.

She looked over a few more pieces of clothing, rearranged several different types in the air with her wand, and finally, after another thirty minutes, she created what she decided was the best outfit.

A dark green long-sleeved shirt with gold accents to match the teams colors, a pair of jeans with a few tears across the legs, and her jet black boots.

Set with her dark hair, and gold earrings, it was a look that would stun even the most prestigious editor of Witch Weekly's fashion section.

She gazed at herself in the mirror and decided to add a nice necklace that was snug against her clavicle.

Suddenly, a quiet knock rapped on her door.

She turned around quickly to find her mother poking her head in.

"Pansy," she said smiling.

"Oh–uhm," Pansy started awkwardly while looking around her room that looked like a storm had blown through it.

"This outfit must be really important to you," her mother said as she walked over to her, picking up a loose piece of clothing off the floor and setting it on a chair.

She placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders and ran her fingers across the fabric.

"This shirt is really nice," she awed. "I don't remember where you got it." Her brows knit together tightly.

Pansy cleared her throat. "Egypt, remember?"

Her mother laughed and placed a hand over her heart. "Oh, yes, how could I forget."

Pansy forced a laugh, but still felt the tension in the air. She hadn't told her mother she was going out. Mostly because she hadn't created a good enough excuse just yet.

"Well I'm sure they'll love it," she said as she turned around to leave the room.

"Huh?" Pansy gaped nervously while narrowing her eyes.

"Your friends. And _Draco_ of course!" Her mother said as if this were obvious.

Pansy's eyes widened ever so slightly.

 _The party,_ she thought with her breath caught in her throat.

Her mother took another look around. "Do take time to clean this up, though," she said with a stern tone to her voice. "I don't want people thinking you're a mess."

Pansy nodded carefully and her mother left the room a moment later.

She sat back down on her bed, covering her face.

How could she have forgotten so easily that today was the day she was inviting her friends over per her parents recommendation.

 _Dammit,_ she cursed to herself.

A few moments passed where she was planning on sending an owl to Hermione to let her know she couldn't go. Sadness set in her heart before an idea struck her.

_I'll do both._

It wasn't a mad plan. The game was in the afternoon, and the party here at her family's estate wouldn't start until 7 p.m. Most Quidditch games could last an hour and a half, so chances of her being late were slim.

Now she needed a good excuse to leave for a while. She cleaned her room, and slowly the reason came to her mind.

She slipped down the stairs and into one of their sitting rooms where her mother was. Mrs. Parkinson was relaxing by a fire while she spoke feverously with a few of their elves.

"Mum," she interrupted their conversation.

"What is it, darling?"

"I've got to meet Daphne soon at her house for some planning."

"Oh?" Her mother quirked a curious eye. "For what?"

Pansy hesitated. "I'm not sure, but she insisted. I'll be leaving soon for several hours."

"Well can't you two discuss it tonight at our house? You don't want to be late to your own party."

The dark haired girl shifted on her feet. "I won't be. And she says it's urgent."

Mrs. Parkinson shrugged and sat back in her chair. "Alright, then. Send me an owl if you need anything."

Pansy smiled. "I will," she said while nodding her head.

She left the room and went back up the stairs. A pang of guilt rang through her chest for lying directly to her mother. It wasn't like her and even though it was harmless enough, it felt wrong.

She lied back down on her now tidy bed, and waited for the afternoon to come as quickly as she wished it would.

# -

The game would be happening at the English National Quidditch Pitch.

Pansy had been to this pitch before but only when she was young. Her father had taken the time out of his busy schedule to allow them to see a Quidditch game. It had been fun, but his real goal was to chat business with the manager of the Wimbourne Wasps. It didn't end well, and his offerings were quickly denied, so Pansy hadn't had many chances at viewing a professional game after that. Even though her exposure was brief, it gave her a natural curiosity for the game and she followed the news and snippets she could in sports magazines.

She stood outside of the castle styled pitch, waiting to see Hermione. The Gryffindor had the tickets after all, and she didn't want to sit without her anyway.

The sun was out, which was rare in a place like this. It was notorious for always raining. This signaled for a good day.

Several fans wandered aimlessly around the outer pitch. They joined with their families, their friends, and all sported the variety of colors for the different Quidditch teams playing that day.

She felt of out of place, mostly because she was alone and everyone else seemed so happy together. The strange looks she got were probably because her face was one of apprehension and she felt she appeared a bit standoffish.

Pansy loosened her arms and leaned up against the cool brick behind her. It would look better if she didn't seem like such an outsider.

Within another ten minutes, she finally saw Hermione making her way over to her through a large family. She smiled, but tried to keep her excitement under control.

"Hey," Hermione said brightly as she approached. "I'm glad you're here."

Pansy blushed lightly as she set a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Me, too. . . I was beginning to think you forgot," she said sheepishly.

The girl's face turned to great embarrassment and apology.

"I know, I'm usually early, but Luna couldn't find her head piece for the Harpies and–"

"Luna?" Pansy interrupted surprised. Her heart skipped a solid beat.

Instantly the memory of Pansy cutting it off with Draco in the library came to a mental image.

The likelihood of Lovegood remembering anything she may have heard about their break on that day seemed like a far fetched chance. But still, she had been the only one within the vicinity when she strictly told Draco that they were over and that it wasn't his fault; but her own personal issues that were getting in the way.

There were multiple interpretations, and if that girl could find something out of nothing then she might just be doomed.

"Y–yeah, sorry. I hope that's not a problem," Hermione said while fidgeting with the sleeve of her shirt. "I should have told you but. . ."

Pansy narrowed her eyes slightly. Was it possible that Hermione would have thought she'd say no if she knew Looney Lovegood was coming? If she was honest, she most definitely would have still said yes, but had she really been worried?

"It's okay, Hermione," Pansy smiled earnestly, easing the tension. "I don't mind. I've never had any real issues with her."

It was true, besides her slight paranoia from that encounter.

A smirk grew on the girl's face. "Not like your issues with me?"

Pansy held her breath for a second as her heart picked up its pace. The look on Granger's face created a surreal feeling within her chest, and it was in this moment that Pansy realized how beautiful she looked today.

Her hair was pinned back into a loose bun and strands of it danced passed her ears and brushed lightly against the smooth skin that was exposed at the top of her shirt. The only difference compared to hers, was that Hermione's sat a bit loser on her shoulders, and the material seemed thicker. The color she had chosen was also a green in respect for Weasley's team. And besides everything else bombarding her eyes, Pansy came to the conclusion that Hermione looked really good in green.

 _Merlin,_ she thought as her breath became uneven.

She shook her head slightly and forced a smile on her face to match Hermione's.

"Definitely not like my issues with _you_ ," she said quietly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and suddenly Pansy was being tugged by her in the direction of the pitch.

"'Come on, Luna's waiting for us by the ticket window," she said hurriedly.

Pansy blushed as the soft, warm hand held gently to hers while the two rushed to the line. The game was about to start, and Pansy was excited, but the only thing she could think about in this moment was how now she knew for sure that Hermione's hands felt the same as they did in her dreams.

# \--

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen," the booming voice sounded over the stadium. "Our game is about to start!"

Hermione wove around several people that clamored around the aisles and took their seats on the stone benches. Children ran around, while parents reprimanded them to stay put, and younger witches and wizards walked hand in hand to retrieve different goodies from a few snack trolleys. The atmosphere was beaming.

She sighed heavily as she took the final few steps towards their bench.

"Here it is," she said as she turned back to see Pansy and Luna following her. "Glad you didn't lose me on the way up here."

"You're not hard to spot," Pansy replied with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know what that means, and I'm not sure if I want to," she said somewhat jokingly.

Luna smiled as the three women sat down onto the cold seats.

"I think Pansy means we know what you're wearing today," she said jovially.

"Exactly," Pansy confirmed, but the glint in her eye was telling that there was more to her comment.

Hermione laughed quietly as she adjusted herself on the seat. Pansy had sat down next to her, and Luna on the next spot over.

Within a few moments, she felt the girls thigh press gently on hers. A nervousness in her chest bloomed quickly at the touch.

She breathed deeply and looked over to the girl. Pansy wore what Hermione assumed was a slightly embarrassed grimace.

"Sorry," she said awkwardly, "the family down the bench is. . . well. . ."

Hermione bent forward and peered down the aisle. A family of blonde haired folk that put the Weasley's up for competition in terms of size squeezed themselves together.

Hermione smiled. "It's okay," she winked.

Pansy gazed at her for a moment and opened her mouth to reply, when the booming voice rang over their stands.

"Alright everyone. Please welcome the Montrose Magpies!"

A loud cheer ran throughout the stands. Mostly on the other side, across the pitch, but even a few people shouted encouraging words from their area.

The team flew quickly from the players quarters down below. They were adorned with black and white jerseys, with a large image of a magpie on the front and back.

Pansy clapped lightly next to her.

"Do you like the Magpies?" she asked curiously. She knew Pansy liked professional Quidditch but she didn't know anything else besides that.

"They're okay," she said as she placed her hands back on her lap. "They're a really good team and don't have many losses."

Hermione nodded. She would be lying if she said she was updated on Quidditch teams and their position in the rankings.

"My team is the Pride of Portree," the girl said with a large grin. "Sorry, Granger, but if Weasley was playing against them, I'd be on that side of the stadium," she explained while pointing across the pitch to the tiny people that mostly consisted of black and white clothing.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, unfortunately." A moment passed before she added, "I'd let you sit with me, though."

Hermione laughed. "I'm charmed."

Pansy returned the gesture and Hermione was certain her cheeks had a tint of pink on them.

"And now we welcome to you the Holyhead Harpies!" The voice yelled across the stands.

Whoops and yells from their side of the pitch exploded. Sparks and fireworks cracked high in the sky from the wands that pointed upwards from the fans.

Hermione clapped hard and Luna stood and hung herself over the railing, her harpy head flopping in front of her as she cheered. Even Pansy clapped a little louder than she had for the other team, and that simple act made her heart swell. Especially because Parkinson hadn't ever seemed interested in the Weasley's.

After Ginny's team flew around and did their own small aerial coordination together, both teams met on the field below. The captains approached each other, shook hands, and the referee let loose the Bludgers shortly after. They raced away quickly, and with a deafening blow to a whistle, the Quaffle was thrown high into the air to signal the beginning of the game.

"And they're off!" said the announcer. "Magpies' Chaser Maddock's got a strong speed towards the Quaffle straight out of the gate."

The witches and wizards on the brooms zoomed around the field much faster than Hermione had seen at school.

"Harpies' Chaser Griffiths isn't gonna let him have it! She's surpassed him and has stolen the Quaffle right in front of him." The voice said surprised. "She's passed it to Morgan who's got a shot on goal. . . It's in the air and. . . SCORE for the Holyhead Harpies!"

Shrieks of happiness roared throughout the stands.

"Goal keeper Mitchell for the Magpies seems to be a bit off of his game this time around," the voice said with a chuckle. "Let's hope he picks it up! Anyway. . . Off they go again with Harpies in the lead."

"Incredible," Pansy said surprised.

Hermione eyed her carefully as the girl looked towards her.

"The Magpies never miss the first score of a game. Especially so soon at the beginning."

Hermione smiled gleefully. "There's always room for surprise," she said.

Pansy laughed and nodded her head in agreement as she turned her gaze back to the game. Luna stood by the railing and cheered loudly the entire time.

Hermione took her attention from the pitch, and turned her observations to the girl next to her.

Parkinson was incredibly entrapped by the game happening in front of them. She hadn't seen her so focused on something since their work stacks at the beginning of their jobs at the Ministry.

Much like herself, Pansy had become more talkative during their shifts, and even though it was less productive, she wouldn't trade it for anything.

She glanced at the game, and back to Pansy as not to look too suspicious. But it was difficult to tear her eyes away from her work partner. She wore a green shirt a lot like her own, but it was form fitting. _Incredibly_ form fitting, she realized quickly as she rubbed the side of her temple.

Hermione eyed her carefully and decisively led her gaze away from her friend's bust to the other parts of her outfit.

Overall, it was a very well thought out attire for the game. It was amazing to her that the girl could just throw something together. Surely, she hadn't put a lot of energy into the outfit besides the team colors, which wasn't really that hard.

Hermione had spent the entire morning trying to find the perfect shirt and the best charms to tame her hair. It worked okay, she had thought when she finally gave up. She didn't think she was hideous, but definitely not as well put together as she had wanted to be.

 _She probably hasn't even noticed what I look like,_ she thought to herself. _Stop thinking about it. She's just here for the game, not to admire you._

Her thoughts continued to spiral deeper until a familiar name rang through the stands.

"Chaser Weasley's got the Quaffle!" The voice nearly sang while the stands were on their feet. "She's swerving between the Magpies' Beaters like a Thunderbird! My goodness, I think she might just–GOOOAAL!"

The stands would have bounced up and down violently if they hadn't been made of pure stone because the crowd on their side cheered like a stampede of animals.

"Go Ginny!" Luna exclaimed while jumping.

Hermione yelled too and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pansy cheering alongside her. After the fans had subsided, she caught her glance and the girl smiled kindly.

Hermione felt her breath strain against her and her cheeks burned bright. She trained her eyes back on the pitch and felt a smile find its way onto her lips. The game continued, and a warmth flooded through her chest.

# -

Witches and wizards all around the girls made their way through the aisles of the stands to the stairs that pillared down to the ground. They cheered and yelled happily, adding a few charms to the sky and patting each other on the back.

Hermione laughed as she chatted lightly with Luna about the highlights of the game as the three walked in the crowd.

"I never thought I'd see Ginny do a triple spin while holding a Quaffle!" she said excitedly.

Luna nodded her head. "Ginny is very talented, but even that isn't something most witches or wizards can do. However, I've heard her brother Charlie was well known for that move."

Hermione nodded, and looked to Pansy. "What do you think?"

Pansy raised her eyebrows while she smiled. "I think it's brilliant. She's gotten a lot better since Hogwarts. But that's not that surprising since she's on a professional team."

Hermione smiled. "Ginny has trained most of her life for this opportunity."

"I am so happy for her," Luna beamed.

Within a short walk down the castle, they made it quickly to the teams prep tent. A wizard at the flap let them through once he checked their tickets.

Pansy cleared her throat as they entered the tent space. "What are we doing here?"

Hermione tilted her head. "To congratulate Ginny," she hesitated, "that's okay, right?" she asked a little uncertain.

Hermione peered deeply at Pansy to gauge the girl's reaction. She looked apprehensive suddenly at the idea of seeing Ginny. They weren't close to one another, and in all honesty, Ginny probably felt the same way towards her as Hermione once had. Maybe that's why Pansy was worried.

"Don't worry," Hermione said with a soft smile.

Pansy shook her head. "I'm not."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you say so, Parkinson."

At the words, she caught sight of Pansy returning the eye rolling gesture as she turned away from her, seemingly embarrassed.

"'Mione!" A voice called from behind her.

She turned and saw Ginny grinning from ear to ear as she ran to her with arms open wide.

"Congratulations!" Hermione muffled into Ginny's neck as they hugged.

The red head pulled back quickly and tugged Luna into her shoulder who was saying the same.

"I appreciate it," she said happily as she looked around.

It was only a second later when Hermione saw the blue eyes flicker to the dark haired girl who shrunk in the background as more players came from the back of the tent.

"Parkinson?" Ginny eyed the girl curiously.

Hermione's heart picked up speed, unsure of what kind of reaction she should expect from either of them.

Pansy stepped forward with a genuine smile. She stuck out her hand towards Ginny and Hermione chewed on her lip.

"That was a fantastic game, Weasley. I'm impressed."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. She took the girl's hand and they shared a firm shake.

"Thanks. . . You're a fan?"

Pansy shifted to her other foot. "I've always liked the Harpies. More than the Magpies at least. It's nice to see someone take them down a notch so early in the season," she said with a grin.

Ginny laughed and sported a wicked smile. "Now that's what I like to hear," she winked.

Hermione breathed evenly again, knowing nothing bad was going to happen from this. The interaction was surprisingly pleasant, and it didn't take long for Pansy and Ginny to chat about statistics that Hermione and Luna had no clue about.

"Parkinson?" A voice from a few girls behind them said.

Hermione looked to the blonde haired girl making her way over to their small group. She was tall and had a sturdy build made perfect for a Beater. Her dark green eyes shifted awkwardly between Pansy and Hermione.

"Rosier," Pansy said with a careful nod.

Hermione narrowed her eyes between the two women, the atmosphere becoming thick.

Ginny cleared her throat and gestured to Luna and Hermione. "This is Viola, the girl I mentioned to you before."

Hermione smiled but was wary. Her and Luna shared a pleasant hello before the girl tilted her head to Ginny.

"Gossiping about me to your friends now are you, Weasley?"

She didn't show much emotion, so Hermione couldn't tell how serious the girl was. That was until Ginny cracked a grin and shoved her shoulder.

"Nothing bad I promise."

Viola let out a single laugh. "I'm sure," she said to the red head. After, she turned her gaze back to Pansy. "What brings you here, Pansy? Didn't know you had a thing for Quidditch."

Hermione looked her. She smiled but there was a guarded stance hidden in her eyes. Rocking on the balls of her feet, Pansy replied simply. "You didn't know?"

Viola smirked. "Not many people in our world care unless they're gambling their wealth on the major games."

"True," Pansy said with a sigh. "It's a shame, though. Watching the games is just as fun."

"Not as fun as making more money," the girl mocked and Pansy laughed quietly in return.

Hermione found this interaction to be interesting. The two former Slytherins fell quickly into a comfortable conversation that felt impersonal yet polite and intriguing.

"Congrats on your marriage by the way," she said suddenly while taking her outer robe to her uniform off.

Hermione could see the slight shiver that ran through the girls body at the mention.

"Thank you," she said gently, averting her eyes across the tent.

Hermione now wondered curiously as how well known the two girls were to each other. Ginny had said Viola was related to the Greengrass and Black families. Pansy was friends with Daphne Greengrass who they had gone to school with. Surely that had to be the point of contact.

"You don't seem as excited as my cousin is," Viola laughed.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Excited is downplaying it," she deadpanned quickly. "Daphne is ecstatic beyond comprehensible belief."

Hermione had been correct, which didn't surprise her too much. She was after all a great sleuth when she tried. She held herself attentive to the Slytherins.

"The last party I attended to she was going on and on about how much fun it was going to be," the Beater said casually.

Pansy nodded her head and sighed. "Yeah, I know she'll make good plans for us."

The girl cleared her throat after a comfortable silence fell over the group. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you at The Leaky Cauldron soon."

Hermione could see the confusion on Pansy's face as the girl turned to some of her teammates for some light chat.

She cleared her throat and Pansy raised an eyebrow to her, keen for an explanation.

"Since the Harpies won, they're having a get together in Diagon for the evening," Hermione said, digging her hands into her jeans pockets.

The dark haired girl bit her lip, and Hermione was absolutely certain she was about to decline the offer.

"You should come," Ginny said with a grin.

Both Hermione and Pansy twisted their heads in her direction. She blushed, realizing she nearly forgot that Luna and Ginny had been standing right there the entire time Parkinson had been talking to Viola.

Pansy narrowed her eyes to her. "Really?"

Hermione breathed slowly, watching the girls.

"Yeah," Ginny said smoothly. "You seem alright. And 'Mione's had nothin' bad to say about ya recently anyway."

"Oh really," Pansy said as she glanced to Hermione with a sly grin. "Recently?"

Hermione blushed harder, and swiped a piece of hair behind her ear. "I–I mean," she started awkwardly but her voice got lost in a sudden cheer.

The team came together and started to jump around in a huddle. Ginny excused herself and joined them while Luna began chanting with some other team supporters that sported different types of head pieces and garb for the Harpies.

Hermione cleared her throat. Pansy's smile was still there, but had become small. Hermione returned it and avoided eye contact. It was lucky that she got out of that conversation. She hadn't told Ginny or Luna anything really negative about her work partner, aside from her concerns about them getting into it at work and causing issues, but that was long ago now.

The calls and hollers went away soon after and the team broke again. Ginny returned with Luna on her side.

"Alright, 'Mione, I'm gonna get changed and I'll meet you all at the pub," she said quickly and darted away to a secluded section in the tent for the team only.

Luna turned to her. "My father needs help this evening with his garden. We've had a recent infestation of gnomes, and he wants to collect them for an experiment," she said brightly. The airy girl turned to Pansy then and said, "I hope you make it to the party."

Hermione saw Pansy nod her head at the girl and Luna disappeared from the tent.

"Looney really hasn't changed much, has she?" Pansy whispered to Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't call her that!"

Pansy stifled a laugh and relaxed back into what Hermione had known of her for a while now that the other girls were gone. It was drastically different when she was around other people. Hermione hoped that this meant she was comfortable around her.

The teammates dwindled away and their families left the tent. Soon they were the last ones standing there.

"So, I guess I'll see you. . . later?" Hermione asked while toeing the dirt beneath them.

"At The Leaky Cauldron?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "No, uhm, I meant at work but–"

"I mean, I don't have to go," Pansy interrupted while taking a step back as she placed a hand between them.

"No–no," Hermione nearly choked out. "I just thought you didn't. . ."

"Want to?" Pansy asked quietly.

Silence fell heavy on them. She stared deeply at the Slytherin girl who chewed on her lip.

"I wasn't sure if you had other plans," Hermione said, which was partially true.

In reality she didn't want to push Pansy too far in hopes of not pushing her away. That was the last thing she wanted.

After a long moment passed, Pansy said, "I don't until later. I can go for a while."

Hermione nodded her head. "Okay."

"Alright," Pansy replied as she shifted her gaze away from her.

Another bout of silence eclipsed them. It wasn't as long as the last, but just as awkward. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the thickness around them.

"Are you going there now?" Pansy asked.

The Gryffindor took a look at her watch.

"Yes, I think it's as good a time as any. The girls will be showing up there soon."

Hermione saw Pansy cross her arms and turn like she was about to leave, but she hesitated as if she had had an internal debate going on in her head. She turned back quickly and placed a hand around her neck awkwardly.

"Do you want to apparate with me?" she asked softly, the words barely leaving her mouth.

Hermione felt her chest tighten. _Yes!_ she nearly screamed. Instead, she settled for a simple, more level headed response.

"That'd be lovely."

A smile crossed Pansy's lips and the two witches left the tent immediately. Once outside, Pansy held out her arm for Hermione to grab. She placed her hand gently over the forearm of her work partner. Her shirt was soft and warm, but not even as close to how her skin had felt earlier when she grabbed her hand without thinking. Hermione swallowed as her heart picked up its pace.

Parkinson whispered the spell and Hermione found the ground and sky twist around her. The only solid thing she had during travel was the now firm grip on Pansy's arm.

Within a few seconds, the pair of witches found themselves nearly falling over a bench near the main road in Diagon Alley.

Hermione straightened herself and quickly let go of Pansy's arm who in return rubbed it gently.

"Sorry," she mumbled with a blush.

The girl smiled. "Don't worry, Granger. I'm not that breakable."

Hermione let out a short laugh and Pansy walked forward down the street. Wondering where she was going, Hermione look around. They weren't at the Leaky Cauldron like she expected.

"This isn't. . ." she started.

"I know," Pansy said as she turned around to face her. "I haven't been there in a while. I didn't want to mess up the destination and get us splinched."

Hermione quirked an eye at the small blush on her cheeks. She cracked a grin in response. "Probably a good move on your part. Though I do have experience with fixing splinching wounds."

Pansy's eyes widened at the remark and Hermione grimaced at the memory. She looked up to see the shop they had appeared in front of a second later.

"Twilfitt and Tattling's?" Hermione read on the sign and sent a wry smile to the girl a few meters in front of her.

Pansy let out a long breath. "I must admit I still have a weak spot for expensive clothes."

Hermione laughed. "Now that sounds like the Pansy Parkinson I knew. . ."

The Slytherin girl's cheeks pinked as an uneven laugh escaped her. "Some things don't change."

Hermione smiled. "True, you've always looked nice. Even at school. . ."

Pansy raised an eye. "Is that so?" she asked coyly.

Hermione, realizing the implications of what she had just said, inhaled deeply as her face caught fire.

But before she could respond, which would have taken a while anyway, Pansy tilted her head up the street.

"Come on, it's about ten shops this way. We'll be there soon."

Hermione swallowed and crossed the distance to meet her. They began walking, and the embarrassed feeling continued to flare.

After they passed a few shops with no words, Pansy said, "You've always looked nice, too."

Hermione glimpsed in her direction and saw Pansy offering a small smile to her. The blush grew at the words, and she exhaled slowly.

"Thanks."

# \--

The short walk to The Leaky Cauldron was pleasant. The sun was setting deep behind the crooked buildings of Diagon Alley and darkness came faster than their steps down the street to the pub.

Saturday evening didn't surprise when she saw the copious amounts of witches and wizards that flocked inside the bar. Older, younger, and some Pansy had barely recognized as team members of the Holyhead Harpies already settling into booths with a few empty mugs.

"I'm sure Ginny will be here shortly," the girl said next to her.

Pansy pointed to a small section in the back. "Let's grab a booth before they fill up."

The pair twisted and turned around many people who simply stood in groups and soon they sat opposite of each other. Their table was a small curved booth in a corner and wouldn't fit more than four people total, and that was pushing it.

A waitress with short black hair took their drink order and disappeared quickly into the thick array of people.

Pansy sat back in the booth and sighed. "Busy night," she said as she tapped her fingers repeatedly on the table.

She felt nervous. This hadn't been part of her plan, but she didn't want to say no. The game had lasted two hours; longer than she expected. She still had two hours until she definitely needed to be home.

"The Harpies do have a lot of fans," Hermione smiled to her.

Pansy opened her mouth to reply, but the waitress appeared suddenly.

"A Wizards Brew and a Dragon Scale for you two ladies," she said with an impish grin. Pansy thanked the woman who eyed her carefully. Before she left, she said, "Don't drink it too fast."

Pansy took a sip of her Dragon Scale. It was one of the only types of beer she enjoyed. In most cases she ordered Firewhiskey, but her plan was to leave here mostly sober. It was going to be a long night.

As she set her glass down, she peered across the table to Hermione who had drank almost half of hers.

She laughed quietly. "Not so fast, Granger. You heard the waitress."

Hermione blushed. "Sorry, I'm just feeling a bit anxious."

Pansy furrowed her brows. "Why?"

The girl in front of her played gently with the handle to her mug and buried her eyes deep into the dark liquid below.

"It's nothing," she said softly.

Pansy didn't believe her, and she felt strange that Hermione would feel that way now. Her friend had just won a game, and they were having a nice evening out. Was it something she had done or said?

"'Mione!" rang a recently familiar voice from behind a few booths, breaking Pansy from her thoughts.

Pansy looked up to see Ginny Weasley striding over with Viola tight behind her.

 _No_ , Pansy thought with a light curse under her breath.

It was bad enough that Viola Rosier had seen her in the Harpies tent. She didn't enjoy the idea of spending time over drinks with her. It was dangerous. Too close to home.

It hadn't even dawned on her until a quarter through the game that she was even on their team. Pansy had heard a year ago that Viola had gotten a spot as a Chaser on the Falmouth Falcons, but clearly she recently was drafted into the Harpies.

She sipped her drink lightly as the two players stopped in front of their table.

"I'm surprised you showed," Rosier said with a glint in her eye.

Pansy raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything as she decidedly took a larger gulp than the last.

"Move over, 'Mione," Weasley said with a playful tone. "Viola can sit next to Parkinson. Slytherin's on that side and Gryffindor's on this side," she said giggling and pointing.

Pansy eyed her carefully as the two girls slid into the booth next to them. Within seconds, she was squished into Hermione even more than when she had been at the game.

They were shoulder to shoulder and Pansy could feel the warmth radiating from her thigh into her own. She breathed evenly, attempting to focus on the conversation happening in front of her.

"Have you already had some. . ." Hermione asked to the red head.

Pansy squinted towards her and realized she was being a lot more cheerful than what she remembered from school. Her slightly flushed face was also telling.

A tiny giggle left her mouth as she darted her eyes to Rosier who in return licked her lips.

Pansy nudged Hermione gently with their touching elbows and said, "I would take that as a yes."

Hermione turned to her and instantly Pansy was granted with a warm smile and a heavy scent of vanilla from the girls' hair. She held her breath, shocked at how close her face was to her. A tightening formed in her chest as she watched Hermione roll her eyes and turn back to Ginny who had gotten the attention of the waitress.

She let out her breath through her nose and placed a hand under her chin to steady herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Viola staring at her curiously. She swallowed, and wrapped her free hand around her glass.

"So, Parkinson," she started, and Pansy held her gaze attentively. "How did you two become friends?" she asked pointing to Hermione.

Pansy cleared her throat and attempted to answer the question as simply as possible. "We work at the Ministry together."

Viola dipped her head down. "I'm sure your family is happy," she said somewhat sarcastically.

Pansy bit the inside of her cheek. Nobody except Draco and Tracey knew she was working with Granger. She wouldn't mind if her parents found out, but it would definitely warrant questions she didn't want to answer.

"They don't really ask me about my work," she finally said, choosing her words carefully.

Viola placed a hand to her cheek and turned to her. "They know you won't be there for much longer, so it isn't a concern."

"What?" Hermione said suddenly, bringing Pansy's attention back to her.

"It's not," Pansy hesitated, panicking slightly, "it's more of a recommendation. . ."

Pansy saw the innate confusion on her face.

"Once Pansy is married to Draco, they'll expect her to leave her job," Viola said with distaste. "It's honestly a load of bollocks in my opinion. And incredibly old-age."

Hermione nodded her head and turned back to Pansy. "Are you going to leave then?"

Pansy's words caught in her throat. She really wasn't sure if she would cave in after the wedding or stick it out. As of lately she had felt more defeated than defiant in regards to her marriage.

"I'm going to try and stay for a while," she said softly to her.

Viola cracked a grin. "We'll see how long that lasts."

Pansy rolled her eyes, she was starting to get irritated with the girl.

"No offense, Parkinson, I just can't imagine the Malfoy's liking their daughter-in-law working an entry level job at the Ministry," she said as the waitress placed down the new drinks. "Especially when it's her family that has all the money."

Pansy swallowed and went to take another sip of her drink only to find the cup was empty.

"Need a refill, love?" The waitress asked smoothly while reaching over to grab the glass.

Pansy sighed. "Sure."

The waitress winked and told the group she'd be back soon.

Pansy sat back in booth trying to keep her thoughts away from their conversation.

The red head whispered across the table. "I think she _likes_ you." A giggle of breath left her throat.

The dark haired girl felt an intense panic rise within her. This was _not_ the type of change in chit chat she had wanted.

She played it off. "Nonsense, Weasley."

Viola laughed. "Don't make me call Malfoy down here," she played.

Pansy knew she was joking, but the threat was deafening.

When she didn't reply, Weasley placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and leaned across her.

"Relax, we're just joking. It's not like you fancy women anyway," she breathed and Pansy could smell the hint of Firewhiskey on her breath from before.

 _Merlin,_ she thought with a gut dropping feeling.

"I bet _she_ does though." Rosier pointed towards the retreating waitress and her and Weasley shared a laugh.

Pansy turned to Hermione who had a smile of mirth to her friends. She forced herself to mimic her even though she felt like she could perish at any moment.

"I mean it's not a problem," Weasley said coolly while taking a sip of her drink.

Pansy quirked an eye to the girl who's cheeks radiated red all while Viola nodded and turned her head to Hermione and herself.

"We've got three girls on the team like that," she said with a hiccup at the end. "Don't know why so many folks have a problem with it."

Weasley grinned and Hermione hummed. "Well that's interesting," she said to the group, contemplative.

Pansy smirked. "What do you expect from an all girls Quidditch team?" she asked.

At this point, mortifying wasn't a big enough word to explain this conversation, so why bother trying to diminish it. The players were drunk off their arses anyway.

Pansy saw Hermione's cheeks turn dark red. The girl's around them laughed loudly and opted for responses like 'Good one' and "True!'

Pansy sat back smiling with her hands on the table, tapping anxiously again.

The waitress returned and placed the drink down in front of Pansy. She went to pull a few sickles from her pocket when the girl smiled and said, "It's on the house."

Pansy blushed and when the waitress left the only thing she could hear was drunken hoops and hollers from the players. She took a long sip of the drink and exhaled heavily.

This was going to be a long night for her.

# -

Time passed quickly as the cups and mugs piled up onto their table, but Pansy hadn't ordered any more than the two she initially had, knowing she needed to arrive at her own party as sober as possible.

After a few more rounds of conversation, Pansy noticed two men approaching them in long dark robes.

"Oye, Ronnie!" yelled Weasley as him and Potter approached.

The watchful eye of the men rounded the table to the drunken women.

"Took you long enough," the long haired red head said slurring.

"We got held up with training," Potter said loosely.

The girl giggled and stood to approach him. She hung her arms around him and laughed while squeezing him tightly.

"How much has she had?" he asked slightly aghast.

Pansy looked to Hermione next to her and the several glasses in front of her just like her friend.

"More than me!" she giggled.

Pansy rolled her eyes. It had taken her by surprise when Granger continued to order drink after drink when their conversation about the waitress had subsided. It didn't seem like the girl at all.

"You, too, Hermione?" The taller Weasley asked gaping.

"As it seems," Pansy said lightly while Rosier excused herself to the lavatory.

"What're you doing here?" he asked suspiciously.

"I was invited," she said matter of factly. "Ask your ex-girlfriend. . . If you can."

He sighed. "I'll meet you at the bar, Harry." And within seconds, he disappeared into a sea of people.

Harry gripped tightly to his girlfriend as she began to slip down his arm.

He cleared his throat. "I think I'm gonna take her home and then come back."

Pansy nodded and smiled. "That's probably a good idea, Potter."

He turned to leave when Pansy called to him.

He raised a curious eye to her before she said cautiously, "She played great. She deserved to have fun.

Potter smiled. "I know. We were listening on our breaks. Even if she had lost, I'd be just as proud."

Pansy's heart warmed which surprised her. Never in her life would she ever had thought Potter and Weasley were a perfect couple.

"I'll see you around, I guess," he said before turning back towards the crowd with Weasley tight on his arm.

He was gone shortly after, and she turned her attention to Hermione who now lied her head on the table. She moved some of the hair that had fallen into her eyes from her fraying bun behind her ear. Her hand grazed her cheek and Pansy felt a surge of electricity run up her arm. She decidedly ignored it.

"Have you had too much, Granger?" she asked gently with a smile.

"Mhm." Hermione nodded softly and groaned, her eyes half lidded.

"Come on," she said while tugging on her shoulders. "Let's go find Weasley so he can take you home."

The Gryffindor sat up and pressed her back against the booth. She took a few deep breaths and Pansy began to slide out when suddenly a hand clamped down onto her forearm. She turned back, slightly stunned to see Hermione leaning towards her.

"You can't go," she whispered in a slurred voice.

Pansy knit her brows together. What did she mean? She had told her earlier she wasn't staying the entire time, even though she mostly did since the girls drank too quick and we're all leaving.

"Please," Hermione exhaled slowly.

Pansy smiled. "I'm just going home, Granger. I'll see you on Monday," she said, hoping to ease the drunken Hermione in front of her.

"Not that," she said mumbling and Pansy's confusion found itself in her again.

Hermione pulled herself closer to where she was almost leaning on top of her. Pansy could smell the wizards brew off of her deep breaths and the deep red hue on the girl's face.

"You can't leave the Ministry. . . please," she nearly cried.

Pansy's eyes widened. _Is that what she meant?_ the realization surprised her.

Hermione placed both hands on Pansy's arm and placed her cheek on her shoulder. She mumbled a few words but Pansy didn't understand them because her heart had begun to race at lightning speed. Her body felt hot, and she could feel each pulse in her neck. She hoped with every fiber of magic in the world that Granger couldn't feel it too.

After a few solid seconds of shock, Pansy cleared her throat and nudged Hermione to sit back up. She looked her deep in the eyes and Pansy swore she saw unshed tears.

"I won't. Alright?" Pansy said seriously.

It was sort of a lie. Essentially she was promising she'd keep her job when in reality she had no clue if she would have the gall to do so.

The Gryffindor nodded and let out an uneven breath. The tight grip she had on Pansy's arm was steady until the girl moved one of her hands down to Pansy's thumb. She slid her palm into hers and Pansy could feel the soft, warm skin press into her. It had felt just like earlier, except the affect of it was dramatically more intense. Which she hadn't even realized was possible until now.

"I know you have to go," Hermione leaned close to Pansy's ear and whispered.

Pansy swallowed hard as the hot breath of her work partner trickled down the side of her exposed neck. Before she could reply, she once again felt Hermione pressing herself against her, except now it was the middle of her chest that came in to contact with her arm, and Pansy could feel the roundness of her breasts on her.

"Let's find Weasley," she said with as much calmness as she could conjure as she quickly slid herself out of the booth, her face burning with an intensity she had never felt before.

She looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but the people of the pub were all too busy having their own conversations.

Hermione followed her out of the booth, still with a tight grip on her hand. Pansy didn't attempt to let go, mostly because she was worried Hermione would get lost behind her as she tried to find Weasley.

The two witches walked around and through several groups as they approached the bar. Within seconds, she saw Weasley sitting next to an older man who was engaging him in a deep conversation about arithmancy.

"Weasley," she said loudly to get his attention.

He turned to her and the man left to attend to another group.

"Didn't think I ever be thanking you for anything, but thanks for getting me out of that bloody conversation," he said exhausted as he took a sip of his drink.

Pansy smirked, amused at his friendliness towards her compared to earlier. She pulled Hermione from behind by their conjoined hands and sighed.

Weasley eyed them carefully, his gaze darting between their interlocked hands.

Pansy cleared her throat. "Granger here has had too much to drink," she said while letting go of her hand.

Immediately, her arm ached at the loss of contact. She placed her arm around her shoulder and pushed her towards him.

"I've got to go now, and I honestly don't know where she lives. Can you take her home? Potter has already taken his girlfriend home and will be back soon he said."

Ron placed his drink on the bar and tossed the man behind it a few sickles. "Sure thing," he said, standing up.

Pansy was surprised at the lack of intruding questions about why she was even here with her to begin with besides her being invited. She gave him a cautious glance as he held onto Hermione's arm tightly.

"Thanks for taking care of her," he said seriously.

Pansy nodded once.

Weasley smiled genuinely. "I'll be sure to tell her how good of a friend you are."

 _A friend,_ she thought with a deep breath. It was true, and there certainly was no denying it now. Granger was her friend, and this night alone proved it. Except Pansy had complicated feelings in regards to it.

"Thanks," she replied quickly and then darted out of The Leaky Cauldron ahead of them.

She took a quick look at her watch: 7:16 p.m.

_Shit._

# -

The loud pop in the air signaled her return home. She stumbled slightly and nearly fell into one of her family's rose bushes.

"Merlin," she mumbled to herself, staggering slightly.

Her mother had always been much better at apparating than her. And it didn't help that she had drank two full drinks either.

She turned the silver door knob to their front door and quickly entered the entryway. Within seconds, she was immediately stopped by her mother.

"Where have you been?!" she practically yelled.

Pansy winced at the tone. She was late. Not a lot, but definitely late. And she knew that had never sat quite right with her mother.

"I'm sorry, Mum," she started. "Things got out of hand."

"Well I'll say!" Her mother scoffed. "You've already got guests. It's a good thing you are dressed for the evening, otherwise I would be absolutely ashamed."

Pansy smoothed her hair that had jostled around from apparating home and gave her mother an apologetic glance.

"Who's here?" she asked in a neutral tone.

Her mother crossed her arms. "Draco, Tracey, and Theodore are waiting in the sitting room down the left hallway. I expect Daphne to be here soon, too, since you've spent all day with her."

Pansy's eyebrows creased slightly until the excuse she had made up crossed her mind.

"Oh, yes. She'll be here soon with Astoria."

"Good," her mother said. "Now go greet your guests."

Pansy walked down the hall before her mother spoke again.

"You really need to get your head on straight, Pansy. The Malfoy's won't stand for a daughter-in-law who can't even arrive to her own party on time."

Pansy closed her eyes and breathed slowly, her nostrils flaring at the comment. When she didn't reply, her mother cleared her throat, waiting for her answer.

She turned her head back to Mrs. Parkinson. "Yes, mother."

Her mother sighed and exited the main hall quickly to another part of the house.

Pansy grimaced at the interaction and paced slowly to the sitting room. She had to remove this negative feeling quickly before she saw anyone. She wanted no shred of a disheveled appearance or attitude to her friends.

Hermione crossed her mind. The way her hand had felt against her arm, her bare skin, and how her breath felt down her neck. Instantaneously, a feeling formed at the pit of her stomach. A nervousness paced lightly in her chest, and her heart ached.

Thinking about Hermione wasn't the solution to her problems, in fact it made them worse.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and before she opened the door she took one last breath to steady herself.

 _Just a few more hours,_ she thought to ease her mind.

# -

The evening transcended from a slightly awkward greeting to one of a few laughs. And surprisingly, she had been enjoying herself. She didn't know if it was from the few drinks she had had at the pub, or the fact that Tracey was such good company to the group.

"And then there was this man who came into our department. He hadn't a clue where he was," Tracey said giggling. "I told him, 'Sir, this isn't the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, this is the Department of Magical _Transportation_.' His face so red I thought he was about to faint."

Pansy laughed and even Draco had found the story amusing. He pressed his outstretched arm lightly against Pansy's shoulder. It didn't feel as forced as it once had, and surprisingly she didn't hate it.

It was at that moment, where everything had seemed alright, that an elf opened the door and allowed three more people into the room.

Pansy watched with a guarded gaze as Daphne, Astoria, and Blaise entered the room. She stood to welcome Daphne with a hug, Blaise with curt nod, and Astoria with slight sneer masked as a smile.

"I'm so happy you all could make it," Pansy said happily.

"It's nice of you to invite me," Blaise said with a smooth smile.

Pansy gestured the new additions to the party to sit down around them. Blaise took the spot next to Knott on a loveseat, Daphne to a single arm chair across from them, and Astoria sat on the other side of Draco.

She flashed a devious looking grin as she gently lowered herself next to him.

"Hello, Draco," she said quietly.

Pansy could feel the boy tense next to her and he replaced his arm around her shoulder as she sat back down.

"Astoria," he said flatly.

Pansy felt Tracey stir next to her and quirked a curious eye towards the girl. She wore a studious glare towards Astoria, but her eyes were fleeting quickly after.

"Alright, Pansy, what do you have planned for us this evening?" Daphne asked as she placed her hands on her knees.

Pansy smiled. "It's sort of just a gathering to catch up with one another."

Theodore groaned quietly in the background, and Pansy shot him a sneer.

"Now, now, Theo. Don't be so depressed. We've got Firewhiskey now that everyone's here," she said as she waved her wand to a cabinet across the room. Two bottles and several glasses floated onto the small decorative table in the middle of the seats.

Theo nearly jumped towards it and poured himself a shot. "Now that's what I like," he said after he downed it.

Pansy smiled and lied back into the sofa. Her friends helped themselves quickly to the drinks and within a few minutes, different conversations started.

Tracey turned next to her. "So, Pans, how's the Records Department?"

Pansy sighed and poured herself one drink. "It's going well."

The brunette nodded and the conversation lapsed quickly to the chatter around them. Pansy quirked an ear to the conversation Draco was having with Astoria next to them.

"I'm glad you're here," she heard her say.

"Me too," the deeper voice of Draco replied.

Pansy rubbed the back of her neck and clenched the side of her drink. She looked up to Tracey who wore a worried glance.

"What about Granger?" The girl asked suddenly, changing the subject.

Pansy blushed at the casual mention of her name.

"Uhm, it's fine. She's . . . fine." Pansy nearly whispered, trying to keep the topic of the conversation low.

Tracey must have taken the hint because she nodded silently and downed the rest of her drink. She groaned and closed her eyes at the sensation it left her.

Pansy laughed which warranted a mocking glare from the girl.

"Well if you're so good at it then you do it." She gestured to the glass in Pansy's hand. "Go on now."

Pansy smirked playfully and tipped the cool rim to her lips. The hot, burning feeling it left down her throat hurt but was incredibly satisfying. It really had been a much longer day than she anticipated.

She held her breath, as to not give away to the feeling it was giving her. But within a few seconds, she coughed and Tracey laughed.

"Not so easy now is it." The brunette stated.

Pansy downcast her eyes as she poured them another drink.

"Davis," Knott said from across the room.

Tracey looked towards him and he moved to sit on the coffee table in front of the girls.

"You've got to tell me more about your job," he said sipping his drink. "I work in the Department of Mysteries, but yours seems more interesting somehow."

Pansy could see Tracey blushing next to her. As long as she had known, the girl had had a mild crush on Theodore. He was a handsome fellow that sported sandy brown hair that curled into something that resembled a cotton ball on his head. He was usually quiet, but he shared as many shenanigans as any other Slytherin boy in his time at Hogwarts.

"Well," Tracey started and Pansy took her attention back to Draco.

"My father's had all sorts of trouble looking for the right man," he said to Astoria.

The girl flattened her skirt against her legs and Pansy could see Draco's eyes lingering on her hands.

"I sure hope he finds one," she replied with a smile.

"Draco, darling," Pansy said, the affectionate nickname staining her tongue. She gained both of their attention at the interruption.

He looked over to her with a somewhat apologetic gaze and Astoria gave her an annoyed glance.

"Theodore works in the Department of Mysteries, isn't that right, Theo?" she said while turning her head back to him.

He tore his eyes from Tracey and nodded with a grin. "It's tough work, but yeah."

Draco hummed. "I'll tell my father. What is it that you do there?"

Theo chuckled lightly. "Sorry, mate, but I can't tell you." Draco furrowed his brows and Knott cleared his throat. "It's part of the training. I'm an Unspeakable. We. . . well we don't speak about it outside of the department."

"Well that's fitting," Tracey said grinning.

Knott turned back to her and the two continued their conversation.

Astoria laughed and placed a hand on Draco's upper thigh. "Tell me more about–"

"Draco, can I talk to you for a moment?" Pansy interrupted with a stern voice while tugging on his arm with strength.

The glare Astoria sent her way couldn't be misjudged. Pansy mumbled to the rest that they'd be back soon, and Daphne, who had taken Theo's spot on the loveseat next to Blaise had a concerned look.

She shut the door behind them gently and pulled Draco down the hall where they would be out of ear shot. She turned around quickly and pushed a hand to his chest.

"What and the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" she whispered harshly.

She heard him exhale, and he covered his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "The Firewhiskey is. . ."

"Bollocks!" Pansy said louder and pushed him again. "You've had one drink! I've had nearly five already, and–"

"Five?" Draco narrowed his gaze when cutting her off.

Pansy bit her lip, she had only taken two shots so far at her home and was working on her third. The other two were at the pub earlier.

"I. . . had some earlier," she said quickly, averting her eyes.

"Earlier where?"

"It's none of your business," she retorted angrily.

"I beg to differ, Pansy," he grunted. "You're just as bad as I am if you're out with some bloke having drinks."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I haven't been with another man, Draco, Merlin I would nev–" She pinched the bridge of her nose, stopping herself.

Draco pursed his lips but said nothing.

"It's getting late," she said looking at the clock on the wall near them. Nearly 9:00 p.m. Not incredibly late, but still, she wanted out of this. All of it.

"Pansy, it's not fair if you don't tell me what's going on," he said expanding an arm out into the air.

It wasn't fully his fault, Pansy knew. Sure, she wasn't engaging anyone in a romance but. . . her recent feelings for Granger had left her with a deep set feeling of guilt in her stomach. Even though Hermione didn't fancy her back, she was definitely indulging in her own desires to be around the girl. And now it was only getting worse.

"There isn't anything–"

"Everything okay out here?" A soft voice called from behind Draco.

Pansy looked past him as he turned around.

Astoria walked slowly towards them until she stopped adjacent to them in the hallway.

"Everything is _fine_ ," Pansy nearly growled to the intruder.

Draco held his gaze heavy on Pansy as she intentionally sent daggers into Astoria's blue eyes.

"Well, I'm fairly certain my sister is going to be leaving with Blaise," she said while rolling her eyes. "And if Davis was ever hungry for Theo before, she definitely is now." A laugh escaped her at the end as she looked down towards the sitting room the three had all left.

"Draco, why don't we continue our conversation for a while?" Astoria said with a sultry voice.

The platinum haired boy's mouth twitched slightly, and he sent Pansy a curious look.

Before he could answer, Daphne and Blaise exited the room, hands entwined. She giggled lightly as he whispered something in her hear.

The pair turned their heads and once they saw the three individuals standing together, Pansy had an idea. It was an extremely rash idea, and was probably fueled by the alcohol she had drank all evening. But it gave her a defense she desperately needed.

She took two steps to Draco, placed a hand around his neck and pulled him down to her lips. She heard a light gasp echo into her mouth as she pressed deeper. She felt his hands place themselves onto her waist as she tasted a hint of salt and Firewhiskey that lingered on his tongue.

Besides the warmth that came from his breath and his face, she felt absolutely nothing.

"Well, what kind of party are we having here?" She heard Daphne ask with a giggle.

Pansy opened her eyes, and let go of him. "Just saying good-night to Draco. It's late and he was about to leave," she said and sent a smile to Astoria who bit her lip angrily in return.

The blonde raised her eyebrows and gave Blaise a salacious smile while hooking her arm through his.

"Well, you two are to be wed very soon, so I can understand why you may want to keep it all very tame," she said winking.

Astoria shifted on her feet awkwardly and Pansy could feel the hatred and jealously radiating off of her.

"Well, good-night you two," Daphne said and turned to her sister. "I'll see you at home soon."

Astoria nodded and when her sister and Blaise left the hallway, she turned to Draco and pointed to Pansy.

"She doesn't even–"

Pansy cleared her throat, interrupting her just at the right time. "I'm going to walk Draco out. You're more than welcome to come."

Astoria shot her a glare and left out the front door down the hall. A distant pop was heard from the other side.

Draco turned his head back to her. "What the hell was that?" he asked annoyed.

Pansy bit her lip. It had been a very erratic move, but it worked. She got rid of Astoria and played her part, though the girl almost ruined it with her big mouth. This was merely a bandage for a much larger wound that she didn't think she could fix, and that thought was devastating.

"It's nothing, Draco," she said bitterly while fixing her hair. She averted his hardened eyes. "Just go home."

He stood still for a moment longer.

"Please. . ." she whispered while her chest burned with regret, and tears begged to spill.

It looked as if he was going to tell her something, but decided against it and turned to leave. The door to her house shut louder than she anticipated.

The sour atmosphere resonated within her as she stood in the empty hallway. She went back to the sitting room and the door opened abruptly. Knott and Tracey were exiting and stopped her in in her tracks.

"Oh, Pansy," the girl said with a blush. "Sorry, but we've decided to leave."

"So has everyone else," she said gesturing around her. "It's late anyway."

Tracey smiled warmly. "Thanks for inviting us." She looked adoringly to Theodore who said the same.

Pansy offered a soft smile, but it didn't meet her eyes. "You're welcome," she said.

Tracey eyed her carefully, and Pansy thought for just a second that she looked apologetic for her situation. She hadn't been very vocal to her about the marriage, and she hadn't told anyone recently how much she hated it besides Hermione. Was it possible that Tracey could sense her distraught?

"I'll see you at work," Pansy ended with quickly and they left her house soon after.

The elves began to clean the room, and she slowly made her way up to her bed.

The tiresome day, finally fully wrapping her into a crater of mixed feelings. The dread that revolved around Draco, Astoria, and her friends, and the pleasure she found in her time with Hermione: her smile, their conversations, and most recently the way she made her feel so many different things.

She lied in the dark as the tears spilled across her pillow, slowly being consumed by the aching feeling in her chest until she fell into an unrestful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This one took over a week because it's extra long. I debated doing a pt 1 and pt 2, but decided against it to keep the rhythm. Plus, I've always loved longer chapter updates myself. :) <3


End file.
